


Comets Passing

by Celestial_Alignment



Series: Skydalorian [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Luke Skywalker, DINLUKE, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Jedi Luke Skywalker, Loss of Virginity, Luke is young and dumb what can I say, M/M, Meet-Cute, Oral Sex, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, SKYDALORIAN, Tatooine, Wall Sex, post-mandalorian, pre Mandalorian, pre-episode 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestial_Alignment/pseuds/Celestial_Alignment
Summary: The Mandalorian ends up at Tosche Station and meets a desert youth who is apparently named "Wormie."
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Luke Skywalker
Series: Skydalorian [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912048
Comments: 108
Kudos: 1142
Collections: Luke Skywalker Rarepairs





	1. Wormie

**Author's Note:**

> MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU!

“My name’s Laze Loneozner… What can I help you with today?”

The young man running the shop was guarded, but professional enough in the face of the helmeted stranger who came in. The Mandalorian was used to it. It didn’t matter what planet or species, no one liked a face they couldn’t see. Luckily, in a place like Tatooine, no questions were asked.

“ _I need a new fuel hose and fittings for a pre-Empire gunship…_ ” he said simply, his tone muted by the metallic cadence of his helmet.

Laze looked skeptically at him, then to his janky armor. “We got plenty of hoses, and lucky for you, we actually have the obsolete fittings… but those are rare parts. It’ll cost at least a hundred each. More if you’re using credits.”

“ _Do I look like I carry credits?_ ”

“There are a lot of people who try to spend it here…” Laze said with a shrug. “It’s just a pain to get it converted out here.”

Mando dropped a stack of druggets and peggats, which made a nice clinking sound, and Laze’s eyes lit up.

“Alright then! How many fittings you need and how much hose?”

They worked out the specifications, and Laze was heading for the door that led to an adjoining room. “Wait here just a moment… Hey, Wormie! Gimme a hand with these fuel line parts, will you? No, no, that one…”

The Mandalorian stood patient and silent in the junk shop, his pulse rifle slung on his back. There was a game in the corner, a young woman playing it without a care for what was going on around her. Bored outer rim desert youths. This business, known as Tosche Station, was the best place to get parts in Anchorhead, apparently, and it just happened to be nearest to where the _Razor Crest_ was parked. 

Finally, a repulsorlift was pulled out by an old, outdated astromech droid. It occasionally stopped, its wheels whirring as it seemed to get stuck. Laze was on one side of it, another younger, smaller youth on the other side. They both had their hands on it, grunting.

“I’m telling you…” The smaller young man, a wispy blond, muttered as he pushed. “He keeps getting sand in his rotors, you need to add plates on the—”

“Yeah, Wormie, I know! Shut up and push!”

There was a grinding sound and the droid tootled as it began to roll again. Laze then slapped a hand on top of the equipment that had been loaded onto the repulsorlift.

“Here you go… These the right make?”

Mando examined the corrugated hoses, turned them over to make sure there were no holes or cracks. He then examined each fitting. “ _It’ll do. I’ll pay you extra for the droid to help me transport it to my ship._ ”

“I need that droid for the shop…”

“ _I don’t want to keep it. Just need it to carry the stuff._ ”

“There’s no way he’s gonna get far across the sand,” Laze scratched at the mop of dark hair on his head. “You’re better off hiring a dewback.”

“My speeder can pull the lift,” the younger man said. The one called Wormie.

Laze shrugged and looked to the Mandalorian. “Well?”

“ _That’s fine. Thanks._ ”

The young man’s face lit up and he nodded once with such enthusiasm that his sun-dyed golden hair flopped. “I’ll bring my speeder around!”

The landspeeder wasn’t impressive but it got the job done. The boy made a point of talking about it, an X-34, with the right kind of repulsor power to carry the equipment _and_ get them across the rocks and dunes of Anchorhead. He let the kid ramble on to his heart’s content, his humble brags about his ability to repair and maintain just about anything, as well as his impressive flying skills.

“What brings you to Tatooine anyway?” The kid had to shout over the engine and the wind.

The Mandalorian sighed heavily.

“I’ve always wanted to travel out of the system...” The boy went on. “As soon as this season’s over, I’m gonna join the academy like my friend Biggs. I don’t care where I go from there, as long as I’m outta this sand pit…”

Another one for Imperial fodder. This kid wasn’t going to last a week after being drafted by the Empire. But the Mandalorian wasn’t here to peddle life advice to naive kids in the Outer Rim. The _Razor Crest_ was hard to miss. It stood out against the dunes with its twin engines. The landspeeder was pulled up close to the back of it where the fuel lines were. The engine to the speeder was cut and the kid hopped out spryly, his hands on his narrow hips as he squinted up at the ship.

“Sure looks like it’s been through a lot…”

The Mandalorian was already unloading the fuel hoses from the back of the speeder. The kid hurried close to help out, not wasting a moment. Together they carried the endless line of heavy hose to the panel that concealed the engines and they carefully set it onto the soft sand.

“You need a hand with repairs?” The kid’s eagerness never waned.  
  
Mando tapped in the code for the key pad, the panel popped off, and he set it down against the landing gear of the ship. There was a small fuel leak, the fumes were strong. The damage was worse than he remembered, and he knew if he worked on this alone he would be at for at least two days.

“ _Sure._ ” He finally said.

The kid smiled so brightly it was almost as blinding as the two suns. He rushed off to his speeder and pulled from it a tool case. Setting it down by Mando’s feet, he cracked his knuckles. “Alright, let’s do it!”

Mando had to stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out where this eagerness to help came from. “ _You must really be bored here._ ”

Wormie sighed and nodded. “You better believe it. The only way to have fun around here is to fly skyhoppers through the canyons and hope the Tusken Raiders don’t shoot you down.”

“ _Hm._ ”

They got to work and hours passed slowly, the conversation one-sided as Wormie talked and talked. The kid paused once in awhile to wipe his sleeve across his brow with a huff, thanking the shadow of the ship for giving them some relief from the suns.

No one would know it by looking at him, but Mando was _dying_. He was soaking wet with sweat under his armor and helmet, and it was starting to get into his eyes. He was regretting letting the kid stay, otherwise he could take the bucket off and wipe his face, get some wind on it. He needed relief.

“ _Keep working on that valve. I’ll get us some water…_ ” he murmured and sauntered away and up the ramp into his ship.

He was short of breath when he stepped inside the ship. It was like an oven in here and he was the potato wrapped in foil. He had a canteen in the cockpit, which he had forgotten to bring with him on the walk to Tosche Station. He felt dizzy. He was halfway through unscrewing the cap when he heard a loud _CLANG_. He had the vague notion that the sound was his own body hitting the floor before his consciousness faded out.

“Hey… Hey! You alright?” Someone was thumping his chest.

He felt his helmet sliding off, and he weakly batted away the hands. It had barely gotten over his chin and he pushed it back down.

“ _Don’t…_ ” he grunted. “ _Don’t touch… my helmet…_ ”

“You’re dehydrated!” The kid was leaning over him, frowning with concern. “Walking through the sands without water isn’t the smartest thing to do, you know…”

“ _I’m fine…_ ” He felt weak, his vision spotted with black, and his head swimming. But he had had worse, and he reached out to grab the pilot’s chair to pull himself up.

“How do you breathe in that thing?”

“ _I just… do…_ ” he panted as he managed to get to his feet. He was tilting, though, and he was nauseated, and the kid held him upright with a hand on his breast plate.

“You need to sit still for a minute or you’re going to pass out again…” 

He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of taking orders from someone called Wormie.

“ _I said I’m fine, let’s finish the repairs._ ”

Either Wormie suddenly had superhuman strength, or he was just that weak, and he was easily pushed into one of the chairs in the cockpit, the hard drop making him grunt.

“ _I’ll_ finish it. Drink some water, don’t be an idiot…”

His vision darkened again, and when he looked through the screen of his helmet’s sights, he saw he was alone in the ship again. He could vaguely hear the clanking of repairs being done below towards the aft of the ship. Grunting again, he took the risk. He pulled off his helmet and balanced it on his lap. Using the edge of his cape, he mopped up his face, getting some of the granules of sand off his cheeks. A long gulp was taken from the canteen, his parched throat practically singing at the refreshment. He gasped a little when he stopped for air. Putting the cap back on the canteen, he put his own ‘cap’ back on by plunking his helmet back onto his head. He was a little revived, but he was still very over heated. The sooner his ship was moving, the better.

With a deep breath, he ambled out of the ship, making his way back to the fuel lines, the canteen in hand. There was Wormie, the upper part of his thin body hidden in the panel, both arms up and the clicking of a wrench somewhere inside.

Maybe it wasn’t fair to keep thinking of him as a kid. He couldn’t have been far out of his teens, and even though he was over eager, he had been nothing but generous. He probably shouldn’t have been so trusting. Mando was tempted to thank him, but for what he wasn’t sure. For helping him with the repairs? Transporting the equipment? Looking after him when he got heat stroke?

“ _Here_ …” He held out the water.

Wormie ducked down to bring his head out of the ship and he glanced to the water. “Oh.. Thanks…”

He took it and sipped from it, much more frugally than Mando had. Of course, this twig of a person was used to the harsh climate and had thinner layers. A second sip was taken and he dragged his sleeved across his mouth as he handed the water back.

“What’s your name, anyway?”

Mando let the silent, faceless helmet restrict further questions.

“Okay….” Wormie took the hint and cleared his throat, scratching at his fluffy blond hair. “Anyway, it’s almost done. I just need you to hold the hose in place while I tighten the fittings…”

Mando nodded and set the canteen aside. Together they hoisted the object up into the guts of the ship, cranking it securely into place. The suns were beginning to set now, casting long, duel shadows. They were getting lower towards the sandy horizon and the winds were picking up. The sand was beginning to hiss against the hull. Wormie squinted in the flying sand and suddenly walked away, stepping out from beneath the _Crest_.

“Sandstorm…” he called over. “Aw man… I should go…”

Mando followed behind him so that he too could look out to the horizon. There was a very distinct wall that hadn’t been there before and it only seemed to be growing. He had experienced a sandstorm or two in his travels, but never on Tatooine. He had heard how dangerous they were. Lethal.

He calculated the odds. “ _You’ll never make it back to shelter in time…_ ”

“If I leave now, I might just make it. I think Old Ben lives close by here, I can probably make it there no problem… I’m a good pilot. It’s not my first sandstorm, you know.”

“Your piloting skills won’t make that landspeeder go any faster.”

“What choice do I have?!” Rather than running straight for his speeder, Wormie was back at the repairs, cranking a few more spots to make sure they were good and tight before stooping down to pick up the hull plating. “Gimme a hand with this, will ya?”

It was easy to secure the panel together and lock it back into place. Only then did Wormie run for his speeder. By now, the wind was howling and the sand was hitting Mando’s armor so hard he was sure it was sheering it, his cape flapping wildly.

 _“You won’t make it!_ ” He called more firmly over the wind. “ _You can shelter in my ship till it passes!_ ”

The kid had an arm over his face in a futile attempt to block the sand. “It could be hours!”

“ _Or you could be dead!_ ”

Wormie then groaned and hopped back out of the speeder, running alongside Mando up the ramp and into the crest. Mando punched the hatch button, pulling up the ramp and closing out the noise. Wormie was shaking the sand out of his hair, spitting out the granules and digging his little finger in his eye.

“Thanks, I guess…”

Now he was realizing the gravity of his generosity. He would have to keep an eye on this desert rat, make sure he didn’t turn out to be a thief or a snoop. But at least he would a clear conscience.

“Oh great…” Wormie leaned back, his shoulders thunking against the bulkhead. “We forgot the water outside…”

“ _I got more_.” While his armor and helmet could handle the storm, he didn’t want to get a ship full of sand. Well, more sand. It wasn’t worth it.

Wormie plopped down in the hold and let out a sigh, his cheeks puffing outward. “My uncle’s gonna kill me…” Wormie suddenly said to himself.

“ _He’ll get over it._ ”

The kid scoffed. “Yeah, I’m eighteen, but he doesn’t seem to know that… And you don’t know my Uncle Owen. If I don’t get my chores done before dark, he always makes me tune up the condensers _twice_ …”

He leaned back, slouching with defeat, his tunic falling open to reveal a sharp clavicle. The complaints sounded childish, but looking at him, he was not a child. He certainly looked older than 18.

If they were going to wait this out together, Mando preferred to do it in the cockpit in privacy where he could relax. His head was still heavy and he was having difficulty catching his breath. It was heatstroke, he’d had it enough times to know. When he tried to step up onto the rung of the ladder that led to the cockpit, his boot slipped and he stumbled, hitting the bulkhead with a clang.

“You’re gonna pass out again if you don’t cool off…” Wormie was suddenly standing beside him. “That armor’s gotta be scalding hot… At least take that off.”

“ _No_.”

He gripped the ladder again, but his body was so weak he couldn’t will himself to start climbing. He was suffocating and his vision was still blacking out from spots. With a heavy sigh, he stepped back and pulled off his gloves. It felt strange enough exposing his hands to a stranger, but there was nothing in the Mandalorian code against it. Very slowly, and hating every moment of it, he took off one gauntlet, then the other, then worked his way up to removing one pauldron from his shoulder, then the other. He set them aside atop a crate and removed the cuisses from his thighs. It took more effort than usual to get the separate pieces off. He unclasped the heavy utility belt from his waist and the cross belt on his chest. Then he moved on to the breast plate, setting the larger metal piece with the others. Admittedly, he felt lighter and he was beginning to feel better. At least he could take in a full breath.

He was still boiling, though, and he found he cared less and less that this obnoxious farm boy was here watching his every move. It was so rare that he removed his armor in front of _anyone_ that this felt terrifying and thrilling all at once. He must have looked ridiculous with a helmet and no other armor, but it had to stay on. That was the way. 

“You’re seriously not gonna take off the—”

“ _Nope_.”

The kid sighed and shrugged. “Okay… Well, where’s that water you said you had?”

After a pause, he pointed to one of the storage crates. The kid followed and without further direction, found the water in record time. It was in a large container with a spigot, but there was no canteen around. After some rummaging, the kid actually found a cup.

“ _I was wondering where that went…_ ” Mando didn’t mean to say it aloud. He misplaced it ages ago, and every once in awhile during a dogfight in space or a rough landing, he could hear the thing rattling around the ship.

“You know…” Wormie said slowly, his eyes on the spigot as he filled the cup with the stale water. “This ship’s plenty big for a crew of at least two, and if you had someone young, healthy, and good at both maintenance _and_ flying…”

He offered the cup to him. Mando took it and held it. There was no way for him to drink it without removing his helmet.

“ _I’m not taking you with me._ ”

“I won’t be a bother!” He was standing too close. “I just want to get off this rock and I can make it worth your while, I’m good at a lot of things!”

They stared at each other, Mando holding his cup, Wormie folding his arms.

“Oh, right…” The kid turned his back to him. “There. Not looking. Your face is safe.”

He wanted so badly to keep hating this obnoxious farm boy. With a labored sigh, he pulled off his helmet. He kept it in one hand as he chugged the water. The empty cup was set aside and he put his helmet back on.

“ _Okay_ …” He gave the clearance only when his voice was once again being modulated through the helmet.

Wormie hesitantly turned back, saw the empty cup, and smiled. “Better?”

He gave no verbal reply and only admitted defeat in sinking back and letting himself relax, just a little, legs apart. His head was pulsing, his body trying to cool itself from overheating. Everything was still too hot. He took off his cape next, leaving him in the worn shirt beneath, every inch of it damp with sweat. It was cool, though, which felt quite nice against his skin.

Wormie finally stepped away from him and was removing his own utility belt. He set it on the floor and let his over-sized tunic slip off his shoulders. Mando was stunned at himself for watching, and finding that the body beneath the tunic wasn’t quite as spindly as he expected. It was thin, but well toned around the arms and shoulders. Physical labor carving out the youthful body.

It was too hot in here. Stupid desert.

The kid wasn’t putting on a show by taking his shirt off. The tunic was given a sharp flap, the sound of sand raining down and trickling against the bulkheads. He then brushed at himself, getting any lingering granules that clung to sweat off in a deliberate, and habitual way, starting from his shoulders, over his chest, and along his narrow waist.

Mando had been in space alone for too long, finding such an innocuous act alluring. He didn’t even realizing he was staring, and lucky for him, no one would ever be able to tell through the helmet. The kid wasn’t shy about it either. He gave his tunic another flap for good measure and slipped back into it. He didn’t bother with closing it or putting his belt back on, allowing it to hang loose from his shoulders and keeping his taut torso exposed. Wormie was looking at him again.

“I dunno how sand-proof that outfit of yours is, but if anything got in, it’s a good idea to get it out. Rashes are a real thing… Sand lice, too.”

Rashes he could handle, but the mention of lice had him unconsciously shrugging in his shirt. “ _I’m fine._ ”

“You say that a lot…” Wormie chuckled and looked down at the floor. Was he blushing?

Being trapped together for hours in a small space was suddenly more apparent. The last thing he needed to do was appreciate the youthful body in front of him. Mando was chewing his lip beneath the helmet. 

“I don’t often get to talk with anyone from other systems…” He looked down, his hands fiddling together. “I just wish I could know more, you know? But I can tell you don’t like to talk…”

There was an innocence to this desert rat, something that Mando himself had lost at a much younger age. Maybe Wormie had seen violence and death, Tatooine wasn’t exactly a utopia. But he didn’t know that the savagery extended well beyond this dusty planet and was systematic in the Empire.

“ _I have nothing to tell._ ”

“You don’t have to tell me anything…”

The next thing Mando knew, Wormie was kneeling in front of him, gripping the Mandalorian’s knees. The kid's hands then began to move, sliding slowly up his thighs, over his waist, and up under his shirt to the damp skin. He could not remember the last time he had been touched beneath his armor by anything warmer than a blade or cooler than a blaster bolt.

It was baffling and it made the Mandalorian's breath shake. 

" _What do you think you're doing?_ "

The kid swallowed hard. "W-what does is look like?"

" _Are you trying to seduce me?_ "

"Well… I was…"

Wormie's hands were shaking against him. He took the kid’s wrists, gently but firmly and pulled them off. He could feel the heat in his groin at the idea, his eyes drifting again to the exposed flesh of the youth’s torso. While mindless sex certainly wasn't foreign to the bounty hunter, he was not about to take advantage of this naive kid.

" _Not a good idea…_ "

"Why not? I want it, I'm giving you permission…"

" _You don't even know me and it's obvious you've never done anything like this before._ "

"So what? There's a first for everything…" Mando still had his wrists and he sat up on his knees, bringing his face closer to the helmet. "You keep treating me like I'm some kind of inexperienced child… but how am I supposed to experience life if no one teaches me?"

It sounded an awful lot like the words of a sexually repressed teenager. Wormie continued.

"And I feel like…" he licked his lips. "I feel like I can trust you. I can't explain it."

Naivete at its best. And pure luck on the kid's part that he happened to be dealing with someone who followed an honor system. There was something beautiful about this dumb kid… and something wise that he hadn't detected before. 

He suddenly felt that maybe he did have a part of the galaxy to share, something that could ease the loneliness for them both.

" _Okay_ …" he finally said softly, his breath tinny in the helmet.

The kid inhaled and almost smiled, even though he looked adorably nervous. Mando let go of his wrists, a finger curling under the young man's defined chin. He could feel a trace of whiskers there that had grown throughout the day, a reminder that he was older than he behaved.

Wormie looked up at him attentively. "I don't suppose you'll take off the—"

" _Nope_."

If he didn't know any better, the kid liked the helmet on. Mando's fingers traced down along the kid's throat, clavicle, chest, down until he reached the line of his pants and slid beneath. 

He found that the kid was already hard, pulsing at the fingers that touched and wrapped around him. Mando's hand pulled slowly and the kid gasped sharply. He stroked again, equally slow, but relentlessly, until the kid was writhing in his grasp and breathless, his fingers kneading the muscles of Mando's thighs.

Watching him enjoy it only made Mando harder, his breath short, and this time not from the heat stroke. He was aching now, hungry.

"Oh… that feels…" the kid gasped again.

Then Mando stopped, pulled his hand away. " _Pants. Off._ "

With clumsy swiftness, the kid was on his feet and pulling down his pants. But they got caught at his knees where the wrapping on his calves were. He awkwardly kicked, his erection more than getting in the way.

"Just a minute, I can't—"

" _Good enough._ " 

Mando was on his feet too now moving in close, herding him backwards with his legs tangled in his dropped pants until they hit the sleeping berth. Mando turned him around at the shoulders and urged him forward, bending him at a 90 degree angle on the bed. 

The excited, though slightly alarmed grunt was amusing, but there were no complaints. Mando reached to slip his fingers into Wormie's mouth.

" _I need spit…_ " he whispered hoarsely. " _A lot of it…_ "

Without hesitation, his mouth closed around Mando's fingers, warm and wet, and he could feel his tongue curling around the digits. That was almost enough to undo the mercenary then and there.

With his fingers now slick, he slipped them down along the youth’s tailbone, between the crack and to the tight (and he discovered tense) opening. He gently pressed, the tip of one finger inside.

“ _You might want to relax…_ ” Mando spoke with deceptive calm, he was aching to take him.

“I am relaxed…” Wormie’s voice cracked.

“ _If you were anymore_ relaxed _you might break my finger…_ ” Keeping that one finger inside, his other hand trailed along the kid’s smooth back, lightly in a wide circle, ending at the base of his neck where he massaged the muscle. It was hard as a rock. “ _We can stop or you can relax…._ ” He meant the offer to sound kind, but his helmet prevented any such nuance, and it came out as an ultimatum.

The kid was panting, as if on the brink of hysteria. He licked his lips, reaching his arms up to grip at the worn padding of the berth. “I’m relaxed, I’m relaxed…” He exhaled loudly. “Look… see how relaxed I am…?”

He would have laughed if he wasn’t so horny. Finally, he did indeed feel some of that tension loosen up and he pushed his finger past the knuckle, curling it a little inside. Wormie grunted softly but made no complaints. Mando ventured to add the second finger, stretching him further. For a moment, he tensed again. But when Mando’s fingers curled and pressed the muscled walls inside, the kid shook violently, his ribs expanding and contracting, a mewl escaping. That’s what he was hoping to hear. His fingers worked him in and out, scissoring a little, testing him until everything felt loose and ready. He took his hand from its comforting massage on the kid’s back to unfasten his pants, to free himself from the confining material.

Withdrawing his fingers, Mando leaned over him, his hand trailing along the sharp edge of the kid’s jaw to find his mouth, his palm opening beneath those wet lips.

“ _Spit_.”

A generous amount of it dripped warm into his palm and he took his own erection, spreading the saliva along the shaft, grunting a little at his own touch, he was already sensitive. He pressed the throbbing head of his cock to the prepped opening, the youth shuddering with anticipation. If he hesitated any longer, the kid was going to clam up again. They were both ready and he was dying. Gripping Wormie’s hip, he pushed inside, firmly and slowly, all the way.

The kid did indeed tense up, and small cry escaping him, though he stifled it into the crook of his arm. He was having a hard time catching his breath, and though it felt amazing, Mando wondered if he had gone too far. Tentatively he pulled out, then eased back in. Again the kid tensed, groaned.

“I can take it…” he rasped, and he peered over his shoulder, the blue of his eyes startling.

He believed him, and he no longer held back. He pushed into him again, a little less gently this time, and began to worth a tempo. It felt fantastic and he couldn’t contain the hard groan behind the helmet, his grip tightening on the kid’s hips as he thrust harder and faster into him. The howling of the sandstorm outside of the ship somehow met with their rhythm, the occasional high crescendo of a more powerful gust aligned with a wave of pleasure.

Wormie was living up to his name the way he was wriggling, and he was gasping for air, moans rolling out of him intermittently, occasionally broken by a louder cry. They were both working back up into a sweat, the droplets gathering on the kid’s smooth back, his hair losing its feathery texture as it clung to the back of his neck, his skin flush and beautiful. Mando had never been so tempted to take his helmet off, so that he could see it with his own eyes and not through the scanner of his helmet. But he wouldn’t dare interrupt the rhythm now, it was building… building…

He choked out a moan as he came hard, buckling forward, his body shuddering with the waves of rapture that jolted through him, emptying himself deep inside the other. Dazed, he heaved for breath. He realized that he had come first, that Wormie was breathless but unsatisfied just yet. He didn’t pull out of him yet. He reached around and grabbed the kid’s hard member and began to stroke him, rapidly, his thumb ghosting over the sensitive tip.

Wormie groaned, burying his face deeper into his arms, his ass gyrating at Mando’s touch, with the other still deep inside. His lean body locked and he cried out as he came, spilling hotly onto the Mandalorian’s hands, and subsequently all over his ship. It could be cleaned. Right now, the mercenary was relishing in the sensation of this cocky kid falling to pieces in his grip. 

He finally pulled out, his clean hand stroking down the length of Wormie’s back and ending with a light slap on his ass before he moved away to the small vacc-tube to clean himself off. He emerged with a towel, not the cleanest in the world, but it would do. Wiping each finger clean, he folded the towel into itself for a clean side and tossed it to the kid, who was still bent over, ass out, half-conscious in the berth.

Mando had to stare for a moment. He wanted to commit this one to memory.

“ _I’ll get you some water…_ ” He could say it with a smile, no one could see.

It wasn’t until dawn that the sandstorm finally died down enough for them to safely open the ramp of the ship. Only one of the suns was poking over the dunes at the moment, the sky still a deep purple. Wormie, after sleeping most the night, was descending the ramp with bowed legs, but a goofy smile. The smile dropped when he found his speeder full of sand. After the kid had volunteered himself to fix the mercenary’s ship, Mando didn’t have the heart to leave him like this.

They didn’t say much as they worked together to scoop out the sand and make sure the engines weren’t clogged with it. It turned on fine and was good to go, so Mando bid a curt farewell and stepped back up the ramp of his ship. He turned, to stand at the top of it, his hand hovering over the button.

“Guess I’ll probably never see you again, huh?” Wormie called up from the sand beneath the ramp.

“ _Probably not._ ”

“Unless you changed your mind about adding to your crew…?

“ _Nope_.”

“Goodbye then, I guess…”

“ _Goodbye. And… Thanks for all your help, Wormie…_ ” He hit the button and the ramp slowly began to rise, and just before it latched shut...

“No problem… Hey! Wait, my name’s not Wormie! It’s Lu—”


	2. Hot Shot

The Mandalorian paused in the middle of the marketplace of Ord Mantell, glancing down at the fob in his hand. Sure enough, his mark was nearby. It was a special job, a good sized reward that would cover fuel expenses and if he had anything left over, he could restock on some ammunition. Despite his armor and cape, and the large pulse rifle on his back, he moved fluidly through the crowd of various species.

He hated being this close to the Core planets. Every job was much easier in the Outer Rim, and even though Ord Mantell was in the Mid Rim, it was still crawling with Imperial Troops. So long as they didn’t cause him any trouble, he had no need to avoid them. But ever since the Death Star was blown up by some Rebel hotshot named Skywalker half a year ago, Stormtroopers had been more aggressive than ever, accusing everyone of being ‘rebel scum’ if they weren’t singing the praises of Emperor Palpatine or volunteering for the Imperial Army. For Mando’s part, he had no particular love for either side.

All he cared about was getting his bounty and getting out of here.

The fob was beeping just a little faster. Then a blaster bolt flew past his head and blew up a fruit stand.

Civilians screamed and the street cleared in a matter of seconds as everyone ducked for cover, including Mando who crouched behind a crate, his own blaster drawn. He listened as shots were being exchanged, the fire fight drawing closer and closer until he saw two figures dive head first behind a stall lined with baskets of orange beans across the street from himself. Blaster fire was pelting the beans, and two different blasters popped up from behind the stall to return fire.

“Where’s Chewie?!” a voice growled behind the beans.

“I thought he was right behind us!” A higher voice replied.

“CHEWIE!” the first voice belted out.

When there was a moment’s pause in the blaster fire, there was a distant, undeniable roar of a Wookiee.

“He’s alright… I told you comin’ here was a bad idea, kid!”

“It wasn’t _my_ idea!”

“Jabba must’ve raised the price on my head… That’s it, I change my mind. I am out. I’m done.”

“Han…”

“Tell Her highnessness I say ‘so long’! Give her a big kiss for me.”

“Han!”

“What?!”

“He stopped shooting at us…”

There was a brief silence and Mando gave these two idiots a matter of minutes before they were blown to pieces, their chunks collected for whatever bounty was on their heads. In the silence, he put his own blaster away and calmly tapped at the controls on his vambrace, checking his equipment. All he had to do now was wait.

Something small suddenly landed in the middle of the street and Mando had only enough time to look before it went off. The blast sprayed beans in every direction, and knocked the Mandalorian flat on his back. When he looked up, he saw one of the idiots from behind the beans sprawled out and unconscious in the street, half buried in the orange beans. A human, by the looks of him. Mando slowly crawled back, getting behind the scant cover of a fallen fruit stand. His head rang a bit, but there was no damage done. As the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the bean stand, and there was only the one guy. What happened to the second one?

“This is the end of the line for you, Solo!” A Zygerrian came swaggering down the now empty street, a blaster pistol in each hand, another rifle on his back and power cells lining the belt around his waist.

The fob beeped faster. The unconscious human didn’t respond.

The Zygerrian stood smiling over the human, both blasters aimed. With his boot, he kicked the human onto his back. “Traveling with a Wookiee makes you far too easy to find, Solo… Lucky for you, I need to bring you in alive…” He holstered one blaster and was reaching for a pair of binders on his belt.

A blaster bolt from behind struck him in his shoulder, throwing him into a sharp spin. That must have been where the second idiot went—how did he get over there so fast?—and Mando took advantage of the distraction. He aimed his vambrace launcher and fired a whipcord. It wrapped itself around the Zygerrian’s feet, dropping him hard on top of the unconscious human.

“What—Hey!” The Zygerrian growled as he was slowly dragged towards the Mandalorian, his shoulder smoking from the blaster shot. “Who the hell are you?!”

Mando met his catch half way, dropping his knee onto the Zygerrian’s sternum as he couched over him and snapped his own binders onto his wrists.

“Wait a minute, I’m not the bounty! He’s the one you want! You’re making a mistake!”

“ _No I’m not_.” Mando took the puck from his belt, his thumb flicking on the holographic image of the Zygerrian’s head and shoulders.

The Zygerrian cursed under his breath. “If you let me go, I’ll split the reward for that one with you! Jabba the Hutt himself put the bounty on him, so you know it’s a hefty amount!”

Mando looked to the unconscious human who was still littered with beans. That guy was number one on Jabba’s hit list? He made a point of getting his jobs through The Guild and preferred not to work independently, especially directly for crime syndicates. Guilds had codes, gangsters didn’t. And this Zygerrian had gotten a fat price on his head for double dealing The Guild.

“ _I saw his puck. You’re worth more_.”

Before he could hoist the Zygerrian to his feet, there was a sudden roar right behind him and something giant and hairy lifted Mando off his feet by his wrists. Mando couldn’t help the growl of pain as he felt the strain to his arm sockets, but he was quiet enough when he saw a Wookiee baring all fangs in front of his helmet’s vision.

“Chewie! Wait! Put him down!”

There was another voice—the second idiot. The Wookiee protested, but a human stepped out from around him, breathless and holding a blaster. Mando, dangling painfully by his arms, stared.

That was Wormie.

“I thought it was you!” the kid beamed up at him.

The Wookiee whined and shook the Mandalorian a little, shooting pain through him.

“ _If he doesn’t put me down I’ll torch the hair right off his face!_ ” He was stretching his fingers, ready to ignite the flamethrower.

The Wookiee didn’t take to well to the threat and responded by roaring in his face... And pulling. Mando felt his shoulders pop.

“Whoa! Chewie, no!” Wormie was pulling at the Wookiee’s arm. “It’s okay, he’s a friend! Put him down, buddy!”

The hairy monster then threw Mando to the dirt and stepped over him to go to his friend buried in the beans, hairy paws sweeping the beans away. Mando was quickly getting to his feet, rubbing at his shoulder, and was relieved to see that the whipcord was still attached to his vambrace, and that the Zygerrian was still on the other end of it. His attention was quickly back on the kid. He never thought he would see that blond again, let alone anywhere other than Tatooine.

The kid was no longer dressed in the oversized tunic of a moisture farmer. He was wearing a yellow flight jacket over a black shirt, black boots almost to his knee and a heavy belt that was loaded with pouches and weapons. One weapon in particular stood out, a large cylindrical device that looked like it could be a detonator of some sort, if Mando had to guess. Regardless, this was a far cry from the naive desert rat he met about a year ago.

“ _I see you got off that dust ball_.” He couldn’t help it. He was happy to see him.

The kid smiled and glanced over to his new friends. “Yeah, I had help…” He opened his mouth to say more when a distant, distinctly stormtrooper voice called out.

“ _HEY! What’s going on here? Who caused the disturbance_?”

The hiding civilians were being questioned a ways down the street.

The Wookiee had his unconscious friend in his arms and he bellowed out at Wormie.

“I know Chewie, we’re going….” He looked eagerly to Mando. “There’s a bar not far from here in the third district. It’s called the Starspin. I’d love it if you came after sundown, we owe you for helping us out.”

The stormtroopers were turning the bend now.

“ _I_ owe you!” The kid slapped him on the shoulder and broke into a sprint alongside the Wookiee, the two of them disappearing into and alley just before the stormtroopers came marching towards them.

“ _Hey! You!_ ” The captain jogged towards him and his bounty. “ _What happened here?_ ”

Mando calmly pulled out his puck and showed it to the trooper, who examined it carefully before handing it back.

“ _What’s the idea blowing up the whole street just to catch him?_ ” The man’s voice was slightly muffled through his helmet’s modulator.

“ _He’s the one who set off a thermo detonator…_ ”

The Zygerrian thrashed on the ground. “I was chasing my own bounty when this Mandalorian got confused and captured me! He’s made a mistake, captain!”

“ _Not according to that puck,_ ” said the Stormtrooper captain. “ _Alright, get him out of here and get off this planet. If we see you around here tomorrow, we’ll lock you up for disturbing the peace._ ”

Stormtroopers pretending they were law enforcement. There were, of course, more ridiculous things. Mando nodded leaned down to unwrap his whipcord from the Zygerrian’s ankles to pull him onto his feet. Having his bounty walk on his own was much easier and energy saving than having to drag him across dirt. He had had to do that enough times in his life.

Less than two hours later, the Zygerrian was stowed on the _Razor Crest_ and all was quiet again. Now would have been the time that the Mandalorian would take his catch and return to The Guild to collect his pay. He shouldn’t have been thinking about Wormie and his invitation to that bar. Starspin.

Yeah, he had thought about that beautiful dumb kid every so often since he met him, but he never thought for a minute that he would run into him again. He was sure the kid would have been dead by now in the conflict between the Empire and the Rebellion. Apparently he was running around with smugglers now, if he recalled correctly what he had heard about Han Solo and his Wookiee, Chewbacca.

The kid had fallen into shady company in a desperate attempt to get off Tatooine. It figured that after Mando had turned him down Wormie would latch onto the next person who would be willing to take him. It then occurred to him that Wormie could be mixed up in something he couldn’t get out of. Maybe that invitation to Starspin was actually a cry for help. Or, the kid was just fine, he sure seemed healthy enough, and Mando was being protective of a virtual stranger.

A heavy sigh gusted out of him behind the helmet. He knew he couldn’t leave Ord Mantell without knowing for sure.

The bar was a little harder to find than he thought. It was tucked away between two buildings with none of the brightly colored awnings to mark the entrance. A small scrawl of Aurebesh letters above a plain opening, reading “Starspin” however, let him know he was in the right place. The entrance was curtained by a heavy canvas, which he pushed aside, careful not to get tangled in it with the rifle on his back. It was crowded, a bar on one side, a series of cushioned booths throughout with weak flickering lights in the middle of the tables. It was a pretty run down place, and the patrons extremely eclectic. There wasn’t a stormtrooper in sight.

Wormie popped up from one of the booths, an arm waving and a smile so bright on his face that it made something flutter in Mando’s stomach. Must have been hunger. He made a straight line for that booth and found that it was also occupied by Han Solo and Chewbacca. They regarded him coldly, and he saw Solo’s hand slip under the table, a less-than-convincing smile on his face.

“I’m glad you made it!” Wormie was scooting over to make room.

Mando unclasped the rifle from his bandolier and laid the long weapon across the table, his hand on the butt.

“I was just telling Han how we know each other,” said the kid. “How you came into Tosche Station and while I was helping you with your fuel line we got caught in a sandstorm…”

He hoped that was everything the kid told them.

Solo smiled again in his unconvincing way. “Sounds like a long and beautiful friendship you two have.” The smile dropped. “No offense, kid, but it’s not exactly enough for me to start singing the praises of a bounty hunter. You try anything, Mando, and I’ll put a hole in you the size of a meteor crater.”

He didn’t doubt it for a minute that Solo was ready to shoot, and his own hand slipped under the table to settle over the blaster at his hip.

“ _I’m not here for you_ ,” he explained calmly. “ _And I don’t work for the Hutts._ ”

“Is that so? Well I happen to know for a fact that Hutts sure like to work with your kind.”

He suspected he knew who Solo was referring to. He had heard a thing or two about a Mandalorian bounty hunter that was making a name for himself working for the Hutts and even the Empire on occasion. Talking to Solo was going nowhere, and he turned to his real purpose for coming in the first place.

“ _Don’t tell me you joined his crew just to get off Tatooine…_ ” he didn’t mean to sound like a scolding parent.

Solo laughed and leaned back in his seat. “He had to pay me to take him. Which, by the way, was way below my usual rates.”

“We paid you more than you asked for.” The kid chuckled and shook his head. “Anyway, it’s a long story… Look, I was hoping you guys would get along. And… I wanted to thank you for helping us today. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Make sure he gets a really long straw,” Solo said with a smug smirk, and the Wookiee laughed.

Clearly the kid wasn’t in any danger. He found some friends, even if they were scummy, and Mando had no reason for being here. Unless he wanted to keep getting insulted by the smuggler and his walking carpet.

“ _See you around_.” He slipped out of the booth, taking his rifle with him as he headed for the door.

He made it as far as the entrance when a hand grabbed his arm to turn him back around. Not surprisingly, Wormie was right behind him.

“Look, I’m sorry about Han, he can be… Something else. He’s a good person, I promise. He’s saved my life more times than I can count. So much has happened since I saw you last, I’ve seen so many things!”

“ _I’m happy for you._ ” He moved to walk away, but the kid had yet to let go of him.

“Won’t you at least let me buy you a drink? We don’t have to sit with them. I just wanna talk.”

“ _I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Wormie…_ ”

The kid let go and leaned back, his mouth hanging open as if his ancestors had been insulted. “For crying out loud!” 

“ _…What…_ ”

“No one’s called me Wormie since Tatooine! You actually thought that was my name?”

It was a good thing he was wearing a helmet, because his face was burning with embarrassment.

“It’s Luke, if you care.”

“ _Sorry_ …” His voice was small.

The frown smoothed away as the kid sighed. “Oh… that’s alright. I guess I don’t even know your name, either.”

“ _You can call me what everyone else does_.”

“I don’t know what everyone else calls you,” he folded his arms, canting his head. “And Han only ever called you a Mandalorian, or Mando…”

Mando shrugged.

“That’s not much of a name…” Luke smiled a little. “I think I’d be well within my rights to call you Bucket.”

“ _I will kill you_.”

Luke laughed, and the sound brought back that flutter in Mando’s stomach again.

“Alright, alright… Fair enough… Is there any way I can convince you to stick around, though?”

Mando looked back to the booth and saw Solo and Chewbacca’s heads poking out curiously. His mere presence was making the smugglers uneasy and he found a strange pleasure in that.

“ _I’ll join you for that drink…_ ”

Luke contained his grin and nodded. “We can sit at the bar. I won’t force you to talk with Han again, I promise…”

He appreciated it and walked with Luke to the bar where they took to a mirrored lean on the bar top. Luke ordered himself a drink, and when he looked expectantly to Mando for his order, the latter shook his head.

“ _Nothing for me. I’m fine_.”

Luke sighed, but he was still smiling. “I remember hearing that a lot…”

It was hard not to call him Wormie. Though he had matured a bit, this was still the awkward youth he had left on that sand pit of a planet. His cockiness, however, seemed to have simmered into a confidence that Mando had a hard time looking away from. The way he leaned his one elbow on the counter, his small, lithe body bending easily. 

He didn’t realize that Luke was staring back at him.

“So… You _are_ a bounty hunter. I was right.”

“ _And what are you?_ ” He countered.

At that moment, Luke’s drink arrived and he looked into it, as if it was suddenly very interesting. For the first time, Luke was playing the silence card.

“ _Smuggler?_ ” He couldn't stop himself from asking, and he hoped Luke wouldn't answer.

Luke smiled into his cup and shook his head.

It was fine. Mando had his secrets, he could let the kid keep his. But he was beginning to have his suspicions about just what it was Luke was tangled up in. Solo and Chewbacca were suddenly behind them, the human slapping a hand so hard on Luke’s back the kid choked on his drink.

“We’ll meet you back at the _Falcon_ , kid… Stay out of trouble…”

They both stared Mando down as they sauntered past, and Solo made a point of bumping his shoulder with the Mandalorian’s. The pauldron was likely to leave a bruise, though, and he caught the smuggler rubbing at his shoulder before they dipped behind the curtain out of the bar. Luke sighed again, looking apologetically to Mando.

“I swear… he’s not that bad once you get to know him… I mean, maybe he is, but it kinda grows on you…”

“ _You always just look for the good in people?_ ”

“There’s good in everyone if you look hard enough.”

“ _You’ll get killed trying._ ”

“You saying there’s no good in you?”

“ _I’ve… done things_.” He felt like he had already said too much. He clammed up, looked away from Luke to face his blank helmet towards the wall behind the bar.

“I don’t care about that…” Luke said quietly. “I… I never forgot you, you know.”

Usually when people talked about remembering him, it was for his cold brutality. This kid had never seen it. He was projecting something onto the Mandalorian, every time he looked up at him with those big blue eyes. And Mando… needed it so badly. To be seen as something apart from a warrior, even though that’s all he was. He turned his head and found that Luke was closer, so close that if it weren’t for that helmet, he could probably feel his breath.

“How long are you gonna be on Ord Mantell…?”

“ _That depends on why you’re asking…_ ” His voice was hoarse with the way that Luke was looking at him.

Luke sucked in a breath and suddenly downed the rest of his drink, gulping down every drop with a wince and a gasp before dragging his sleeve over his mouth. Whatever he drank, he seemed to think chugging it would give him courage.

“Ugh…” He coughed, but looked back to Mando’s blank face. “I was thinking… Maybe… just that, you know… I was hoping…”

Mando still leaned on one elbow, regarding the stammering youth with a tilt of his head. He was glad that Luke couldn’t see him smiling at him. He knew exactly where the kid was going with this, and his floundering was… well, adorable was the only word, though he would never use it out loud.

“ _Wanna come back to my ship?_ ” He offered.

Luke flushed a solid pink, but his eyes lit up brilliantly. “Yes! Actually, if it’s all the same to you… I have a room here…” he jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “The owner of this place lets us room here for free…”

“ _Nothing’s for free…_ ” he couldn’t contain his skepticism.

“It’s his way of thanking us for… our work…”

Mando didn’t want to know anything more about him. He stood from his lean on the counter. “ _Lead the way._ ”

They had to pass through a series of winding, narrow halls to get to the room that Luke was given by his ‘friend’, and it wasn’t much to look at, but it was at least slightly more roomy and comfortable than Mando’s ship. The only window it had was a small hole in the wall where a little sunlight could come in. It didn’t even have transparisteel to keep things out. There was at least a rectangular shaped, lumpy cushion that could be called a bed on the floor against the wall. 

Luke pressed himself against the door frame to let Mando enter the room, and habit had the bounty hunter walk in with caution, his hand automatically settling over the blaster at his hip. The door slid shut on mechanics, and squawked when it was locked.

“I know it’s not much,” Luke said with a small tremble in his voice, a hand bashfully scratching at his fluffy hair. “But at least it’s private—Oh!”

Mando had him by the collar, pulling him in closer, his other arm coiling around the boy, to get a hand on the ass that he remembered well, and to pull him in close enough to feel the bulge. The air was knocked out of Luke when he was chest to chest with him, and he seemed to have some difficultly sucking the oxygen back in. Leather gloves were squeezing generously until something past Luke’s shoulder caught his eye. Sitting idle in the corner of the tiny room was an astromech droid.

“ _Does that need to be here?_ ” He slowly let go of Luke and eased back.

Luke blinked and looked over his shoulder. “Oh, that’s just Artoo.”

“ _I don’t want a droid in here…_ ”

“He’s fine, you don’t have to worry about him…”

Mando stared at the blue and silver astromech for a beat. It was silent, obviously powered down for the moment. If he could be sure that it would stay powered down, he might tolerate it. But he’d always be looking over his shoulder, and the thought of it turning on while they were in the middle of something unholy made his blood curdle a little.

“ _Can’t you send it outside or something?”_

“Alright, alright… If it’ll make you feel better.” Luke conceded with a frown and approached the little droid. “Hey! Artoo, wake up!”

The red light flickered on, circuits could be heard firing up, and the domed head turned.

_Fer-wee?_

“Sorry, Artoo… You mind heading back to the _Falcon_ without me?”

The droid whistled and its one black optic lens landed on the Mandalorian. There was a pause, then the droid whistled and chirped frantically.

“Whoa, whoa… Settle down!” Luke patted the air in front of him. “Wonder what’s gotten into him… It’s okay, Artoo, I can take care of myself. He’s a friend.”

This droid seemed to have some strong opinions about bounty hunters, or perhaps Mandalorians. And that fact did nothing to make Mando more comfortable. The closer any machine was to thinking on its own, the worse they were.

Luke argued with the tin can for awhile before the astromech finally rolled reluctantly out of his corner towards the door. It paused, rotated its head back and stared at Mando again for a long moment, beeped low, and rolled out the door when Luke opened it for him.

“Sorry, buddy…” Luke said quietly as he watched the droid wheel passed.

Even when the door was shut and locked again, they could hear Artoo’s disgruntled beeping and booping. Luke let out a breath and smiled shyly to Mando.

“Well… We’re alone…”

Somehow that statement was enough to send a wave of excitement through the bounty hunter. He unclasped the rifle from his back, the belt with his gun, setting them carefully in the same corner where the R2 unit had been resting. He then pulled off his leather gloves. Luke was staring, but Mando was taking off his armor piece by piece.

The kid finally snapped out of it and shrugged out of his yellow flight jacket, tossing it aside and working at his belt. It landed heavily thanks to the odd cylindrical weapon that was hanging from it.

“I haven’t actually had… or done… you know… since you and me… you know…”

The Mandalorian paused as he was about to get the last piece of armor off his thigh. “ _At all?_ ” 

Luke shook his head, his chin dipping as he set his utility belt aside and began pulling his shirt tail out of his pants.

“ _What about that smuggler…?_ ” He didn’t know why he needed to know. It wasn’t really his business.

Luke’s eyes flashed to him, his brows raised. “What—Han?” He laughed and shook his head again. “No way… I don’t think he’s that way… Besides, he’s got it bad for someone else, but… between you and me I think she’s way too good for him...”

Mando stopped listening when Luke pulled his shirt off over his head, mussing the blond and revealing that he was still built lean and taut, his build deceptively delicate. Mando could still remember how he felt under his fingers and his breath hitched.

With his armor off, Mando was left in his boots, pants, shirt and jerkin (and of course his helmet). Luke moved to the cot on the floor, dropping into it with a light grunt as he began to pull at his boots. Once he threw off the second boot, he stared up at the bounty hunter.

“Sorry if I’m not very good at this… I haven’t had a lot of time for anything else lately, and I…”

He trailed off because the Mandalorian didn’t want to talk and dropped onto one knee between Luke’s legs, a hand pushing the youth onto his back. Luke obeyed, scooting back on his elbows to make room on the lumpy mattress as the bounty hunter scooted forward, putting his full weight onto the younger man, his hips sinking between Luke’s legs.

“…As…as I was saying, I don’t really know what I’m doing, and—”

Mando took his wrists, pinning them above his head. “ _Luke_ …” His real name rolled off Mando’s tongue like velvet. “ _Shut up._ ”

Luke swallowed hard, his eyes trailing over the reflective metal of the bounty hunter’s helmet, inches from his face. Mando pushed his hips down, their clothed groins rubbing firmly, and Luke grunted, pushing back responsively. He could feel the bulge against his own, it didn’t take much, and he was glad. He wasn’t here to talk, he was invited here for one reason and one reason only. Hips rolled again, building friction, and again until Luke spasmed a little, a needy sound rising from his throat. Mando himself was hard, aching and burning hot under his skin.

He moved back as far as needed to grab at the waistline of Luke’s pants, pulling them down over his legs. There was surprising muscle in those thighs, and he moved between those narrow hips again, the rough fabric of his pants against the other’s exposed groin. His hand ghosted over Luke’s jaw, and Luke turned his head, his mouth closing over his fingers. He remembered how it went last time, and Mando grunted softly behind his mask.

“Come on…” Luke whined with his mouth full. “What are you waiting for…? Please…” His hips pushed up impatiently, stoking the fire a little.

“ _You have a real problem with patience, don’t you?_ ” His voice was husky.

Luke smiled deviously. “So I’ve been told… You know I can take it…” He suckled generously on Mando’s fingers, coating them and teasing them before pulling them out of his mouth. He was holding Mando’s wrist, directing his hand down between their bodies, commanding his hand to the most sensitive place.

Luke was impatient, so he wasn’t going to be treated gentle. Mando pushed two fingers inside without warning and Luke gasped sharply, his hand slapping onto the bounty hunter’s shoulder, where it gripped tightly. Fingers worked him, Luke squirmed and whimpered. His hands weren’t idle, though. They moved, sliding up under the Mandalorian’s jerkin to find the hidden skin beneath. The sensation of flesh against flesh startled the bounty hunter. He hadn’t felt hands on his body since… well he wasn’t quite sure. And Luke’s hands felt small, soft and warm as they slid up, finding pectorals and kneading the muscle there, nails accidentally catching nipples and sending a shockwave through Mando.

Mando withdrew his hand, bringing it to Luke’s lips again. He didn’t need to be prompted this time, he spit into the palm and his heels dug into the cot as he spread his legs, lifting his hips eagerly. Mando coated his pulsing member, and pulled Luke’s legs around his waist, pushing roughly inside. Rough it may have been, tight and a little resistant, but it felt so incredibly good. He moaned behind the helmet, and so did Luke.

Hips bucked, fast and unrelenting. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh slapping flesh, Luke’s loud cries between his panting, the modulated grunts and occasional moans from behind the warrior’s helmet. Luke’s hands never left Mando’s chest, feeling the flesh and the hair, nails dragging and beginning to slip on the developing sweat. Luke was getting sweaty too, his hair losing its fluff. Mando wanted to lick the salt of his sweat off of him. He wanted to quiet his open mouthed moans with his own tongue. But he could not reveal his face, no matter how close to impulsive stupidity he was at this moment as he frantically thrust, the heat rising and every muscle electrifying with the growing pressure.

He was determined to make Luke come first this time. He maintained the tempo of his hips, keeping the kid’s legs locked around his waist, and he took the other’s neglected erection in hand. In tune with his own thrusting rhythm, he began to stroke Luke, fast and firm, his thumb trailing across the sensitive head that was beginning to weep. The added stimulation had the kid practically screaming now, trying to form words, but not making any sense.

Luke cried out, mouth wide open, his skull pressing back into the cot as his lithe body seized, the hot seed coating his stomach and Mando’s hand. His body had locked, causing him to clench down around the bounty hunter deep inside him, and that was all it took. Mando groaned, the electric fire spreading from his lower back, through his body. He trembled with each wave that shot through him, his hips moving slowly to work the last of it, numb to the nails that were clawing at his chest. He choked out a gasp, and his body went suddenly limp. Without a thought in his head he dropped, his body landing on top of the kid and forcing all the air out of him.

“Ow….” Luke grunted, too weak and breathless to react more dramatically to the helmet hitting his skull. “You mind not crushing me…?” he giggled.

“ _Hmm…_ ” Mando weakly rolled off of him. There wasn’t a whole lot of room on that lumpy cot for two bodies, and he ended up squished between the wall and Luke, lying on his shoulder, his head heavy with the helmet and lulled to the side.

There was a long silence as they both huffed and puffed for air. Luke began to wriggle a little, becoming more and more aware of the mess they made as things cooled down. He reached over and found a towel, which he used to wipe himself clean, tossing the thing away with a wrinkle on his nose that Mando found rather cute. 

“Hey…” Luke said softly, tapping at the helmet. “You awake in there?”

“ _Nope…_ ”

The kid smiled and stretched out next to him on his back, fingers linking on his thin stomach as he stared at the ceiling, his chest still rising and falling as he caught his breath. “I dunno what it is…” he squinted thoughtfully. “I don’t even know who you are or what you look like, but being around you makes me feel… I dunno, I just feel good around you.”

“ _That’s called sex. It’s why people like it so much_.” He tried to give a hard fact to hide that he felt it too. He liked this kid.

Luke’s lips flattened into a straight line and he eyed him with a frown. “I know what that is… It’s something else though. I guess you could say I have a… sense about things.”

“ _Hm_.”

“You’re not the least but curious about me?”

“ _Not really._ ” He lied.

“I could be really interesting for all you know.”

“ _I’m sure._ ”

“What if I told you I was part of the reb—”

“ _Don’t_.” He said sharply, sitting up suddenly. He was sandwiched between the kid and the wall, so he rolled forward enough to get an arm on each side of Luke, to lean over him, chest to chest, helmet to face. “ _I don’t want to know anything, and if you’re smart you won’t tell me anything. Whatever you’re involved in has nothing to do with me. And I want no part of what you’re doing._ ”

Luke stared up at him with a spark of defiance in his eyes. “Don’t you ever feel like you could be doing more? You could help…”

He was beginning to feel like Luke wanted to recruit him. His suspicions were confirmed, and that was all he needed. He easily climbed over Luke and got to his feet, straightening his pants and jerkin and moving towards the pile of armor and weapons to gear up again. Luke was standing too now, pulling on his own pants as he glared to the Mandalorian.

“So you’re just going to walk away and not even give me a good reason?”

“ _Yup_.”

“I’d call you a coward if you didn’t hunt people for a living… Maybe you’re just something worse…” Luke’s words muffled behind his black shirt as he pulled it over his head.

“ _Maybe_.”

The kid roughly tugged on his yellow jacket. “I guess I was wrong about you. You’re just another one of those every-man-for-himself types who doesn’t care about the bigger picture. There is real evil out there and it’s winning because people like you can’t be bothered to stand up to them!”

Mando was already fully armored, his gun belt on. He picked up his rifle and held it at his side as he faced Luke. “ _I didn’t come here to listen to propaganda from either side. And I sure as hell am not here to be recruited into anything. I’ve seen what the Empire’s capable of. You were better off on Tatooine._ ”

“Unlike you I’m not afraid of the Empire.” He punctuated it by snapping his belt on and gripping the cylindrical weapon where it hung on his belt.

He had the pluck and arrogance of any youth joining the Rebel cause, the kind that usually died bloody and useless. And yet, there was just something about Luke. Maybe he had a fighting chance. But Mando felt a deep ache in his chest to think that such a brilliant star was destined to be snuffed out by Imperial blaster fire. Just like everything else that seemed invincible. Just like Mandalore.

“ _See you around, Luke… Take care of yourself_.”

“Same to you.” Luke’s jaw was tight.

The Mandalorian walked out the door, knowing this would be the last time their paths crossed.


	3. Broken

The amount of light that was flashing in his cockpit almost made it look like a party, if it wasn’t for the concussion from each blast and the occasional burst of sparks from his deflectors. His shields were failing fast, alarms screaming from the computers all around him, and he could hear something electrical clicking behind the panels in the ship. His ship was on the cusp of bursting into a ball of fire and the three tie fighters that were swarming around him were not about to give up until it happened. The breathy roar of their engines made them sound like ravenous reptiles.

He knew that last job was a bad idea. He had taken it because the bounty was exponential and only needed to be split four ways in the crew he joined. Unfortunately, that crew wasn’t as skilled as it claimed to be, and they completely failed to mention to him the part of the job that took them uncomfortably close to an Imperial starbase, getting themselves killed in their incompetence, and leaving him with the workload and all the heat. Just his luck. But there was one hell of a reward for him to bring home if he survived this. It would be substantial to the foundlings and his tribe.

_TING!_

A piece of his ship was gone. One hand was firing at whatever tie fighter swooped within his sights, the other steering the bulky ship into evasive maneuvers. He had to give up on firing back to flip the switches for hyperdrive. There was no time to set a destination, it was now or never to jump beyond the reach of these short range fighters. In that moment that he stopped firing, he heard the pelting against the port side of his ship and there was a flash of light from the turbine. That was bad.

He threw the toggle for hyperdrive and blinked out of their reach. He wasn’t able to stay in hyperdrive for very long before something popped in his ship, like a slugthrower being fired, and he dropped back out of hyperspace, landing in a random quadrant of the galaxy. The _Razor Crest_ sputtered and began to drift slowly into a spin. Well, at least he was safe.

_BANG!_

He was jolted hard in his seat and now the ship was spiraling fast, the computers still sparking and screaming. Something hit him, and leather gloves were working rapidly to flip switches, opening exhaust vents and shutting down the turbines to cool down and avoid an explosion. The spotty sensors showed a small ship nearby—fighter size—coming about and heading his way again. He couldn’t see it with his own eyes, it was out of range and too far. A tie fighter must have followed him somehow.

Sensors were unreliable, the nav computer completely useless, but he could see through the transparisteel that he was headed for a moon and fast. He had no choice but to try to bring the _Crest_ in for a landing, and if that fighter was coming after him, he was a sitting duck. In the noise of his failing ship, he couldn’t make out whether or not he was being shot at. He hunkered down in the pilot’s seat, gripped the controls with one hand, the other working madly over the cockpit controls to bring the ship down in one piece.

He passed through a thin layer of mist in the atmosphere before the _Razor Crest_ slammed through a canopy of what looked like giant mushrooms, the ground not far below. The landing gear almost didn’t emerge in time, and he dropped hard onto the foliage, the ship bobbing and tilting on the soft earth beneath. Though he was jerked around a bit, he managed to stay in his seat. Everything was shut down. The whole ship was hissing from overheating and probably leaking fuel. A shadow passed by low, once, then twice. He was being circled by the fighter.

So he grabbed his Amban sniper rifle, slung it on his back, and stepped down the ramp of his ship. He climbed up the side with the exterior footholds until he was at the top. One quick glance and he could see the top of his ship was scraped, the hull plating torn up from the collision with the other ship. Feathered birds were flocking around, squawking and fleeing for their lives.

The fighter was coming in low, and he could finally see its silhouette against the sapphire sky. It wasn’t a tie fighter. That was an X-Wing. It was smoking too—probably from hitting the _Razor Crest_. It was flying directly at him now, and he couldn’t tell if it was an attack pattern. The S-foils weren’t out, it wasn’t carrying that signature X shape that indicated battle. He was ready to raise his rifle if need be, it was low enough, his rifle had range….  
  
But the X-Wing circled and slowed, lowering down into a graceful landing a short distance away. This must have been a rebel scout, and the Mandalorian suspected he was in for an interrogation. Whoever this rebel was, they needed to be on their way and leave him alone so that he could work on his repairs. So he climbed down from the top of his ship, holding his rifle with his finger on the trigger, the other hand keeping close to the blaster on his hip.

As soon as he began walking he could feel how soft the ground was beneath his boots, moss and soft foliage as far as the eye could see. This place was teeming with healthy plant life, as well as some birds that circled the air and nested in the towering mushrooms. He marched for the X-Wing, where he could see the top lift open, an orange flight suit climbing out. Mando was ready to aim, but the rebel didn’t seem to be reaching for any weapon. They pulled off the large pilot’s helmet and perched it on their arm, their face agape.

Mando was slack-jawed beneath his own helmet, too.

“ _Luke_.”

“I don’t believe it…” the kid gasped. He dropped his helmet into the cockpit and hopped down onto the spongy ground, hesitant steps taken towards the Mandalorian. “How…” He then shook his head. “There’s gotta be a reason…”

“ _Did you crash into my ship?_ ”

Luke was still staring at him. “I only crashed into you because you dropped outta hyperspace outta nowhere!”

In the infinite reaches of space, of all the infinite ships and cosmic objects floating in the vacuum of the galaxy, they had to run into each other. Literally.

“I can’t believe you’re here…” Luke said softly.

He closed the distance between them, his arms closing around the armored bounty hunter, his face burying into the crook of Mando’s neck between the armor, where there was only the bunched material of his cape.

Mando was frozen. As if he wasn’t stunned enough from running into Luke, let alone receiving a hug, Luke was holding onto him for dear life, like the bounty hunter was the only thing keeping him afloat in a vast sea. It had only been a couple of months since they saw one another on Ord Mantell, and there was something a little dimmer about Luke.

“ _What happened…?_ ” It was all Mando could think to say.

“You mean besides you breaking my ship…?” Luke sounded unconvincingly cheeky as he spoke against Mando’s neck.

“ _I mean it…_ ” He took Luke by his small waist, to gently peel him off so that they could speak face to helmet. “ _What are you doing way out here alone?_ ”

Luke took a deep breath and glanced back at his X-Wing. The R2 unit that was still docked in the ship’s socket whistled while its arm extended out, repairing some of the smoking circuits beneath the plating. 

“I’m not that alone, I got Artoo…”

“ _Hm_.”

“I forgot… You don’t like him. That’s okay, he’s busy anyway…” Even under the heavy flight suit, he could see Luke heave a sigh. “I just needed to get away for awhile… Someplace quiet where I could maybe think. This felt like the right place to go, I don’t know why… Now I can see I was _meant_ to come here.”

That sounded a little too superstitious for Mando’s taste, but he couldn’t deny it. This was the third time they had met by chance. A warrior turned bounty hunter, and a farm boy turned rebel didn’t exactly run in the same circles.

“ _It’s definitely weird..._ ” That was all he could think to say. He couldn’t say aloud that he was glad to see Luke, especially after how rough their last encounter ended. “ _I, uh… need to go work on my ship. It was already damaged before you ran into it._ ”

“Hey, like I said you got in _my_ way.”

“ _You’re the one who’s supposed to be the ace pilot, remember?_ ” He hadn’t forgotten all the humble brags back on Tatooine.

Luke almost smiled, the edge of his mouth tugging just a little. “Sure.”

Something was definitely off about him. Mando had seen enough in his life to recognize the face of someone who was haunted. He slung the rifle onto his back finally and began to turn, pausing to look back.

“ _I could use another pair of hands to fix my ship… That way I can leave quicker and you can have your alone time here._ ”

“Well, I—Nevermind… Yeah, I’d love to help. I’ll bring some tools…”

He moved back to his ship and began to remove the flight suit. He shimmied out of it, and underneath he was wearing beige fatigues, all one color. The outfit was simple, and it suited him much better than that smuggler look he was sporting on Ord Mantell. With the flight suit slung on his shoulder, he climbed back up the ladder to the cockpit and tossed the thing inside with the helmet. Bending forward he was reaching behind the pilot’s seat to rummage. It gave the Mandalorian a very good indication of just how tight that outfit was that Luke was wearing. He stared because he knew he could get away with it.

Luke carefully climbed back down the ladder with a case in his right hand, but as soon as he was on the ground, he switched hands. Mando couldn’t help but notice that he flexed his right hand, holding it close against him.

“I know you don’t like droids, but Artoo-Detoo’s an amazing astromech.”

“ _Astromech’s never do well on my ship. It’s too old._ ”

“Trust me, Artoo’s exceptional. He’s got modifications like I’ve never seen in any droid. He can honesty fix anything.”

“ _Hm._ ”

“Just give him a chance? Please?”

The R2 unit whistled from its socket atop the X-Wing, and Mando could feel the rust bucket staring at him.

Mando sighed. “ _Fine_.”

The astromech whistled happily and lowered himself down to the ground with the clamps. He rolled to Luke’s side like a faithful tooka-cat. He began to walk, and the boy and his droid followed. Luke kept a few feet behind and said nothing. The silence was eerie, and a little disheartening. Mando found himself missing the hot-headed kid that would run after him and was all smiles.

Even when they reached the _Razor Crest_ , hardly a word was said as they got to work. Mando kept one eye on the droid at all times, but the droid did what Luke said he would. He tinkered here and there, fixing damaged circuits, and occasionally plugged into the ship’s computer to get a better read out. The night on this little moon passed in only a couple of hours and the sun was out again, the flora around them perking up a little in response to the light. The canopy of mushroom and tree protected them from any obscene heat, and the planet was quite comfortable.  
  
Mando fired up the ship, tested the engines and the computer. Everything seemed to be in working order. He turned everything back off and powered it down. As he walked down the ramp, Luke was packing up his tools.

“ _Thank you for your help, Luke…_ ” No, he wasn’t going to thank a droid.

“It’s no problem…” Luke didn’t even look up from his packing. He snapped the case closed and switched to his left hand again. “I think that’s why I was brought here. To help you.”

Even as he said it, Luke still sounded so confused. Mando never felt like he was the one who actually needed help.

“ _I’m running one last diagnostic on the ship to make sure everything’s in working order…_ ” That was a bold faced lie. “ _It’s going to take awhile, so I figured I might as well have something to eat while I wait… You hungry?_ ”

Luke blinked. “Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I ate.”

That was enough for Mando. “ _Get a fire going… I’ll be right back._ ”

He was going hunting. Not with a blaster or the pulse rifle, however. He didn’t want to burn or disintegrate dinner, after all. He stalked off into the heavily wooded area. It was only half an hour before he was marching back, one of the massive native birds wrapped in a whip cord, its neck snapped, and the whole feathered monster dangling over his shoulder.

Luke had built a decent bon fire where the moss seemed to be the thinnest, where just a little soil showed through among some large rocks. Mando didn’t bother with plucking, it took too long. So he skinned it free of feathers altogether. The bird was then skewered on the end of his rifle and it was propped over the fire to start cooking.

Luke was leaning against a boulder, his arms tucked close against him, his left hand gripping at his right wrist. His eyes were falling closed, he was dozing off, his head occasionally jerking up as he fought to stay awake. His body won, his head hanging, hair in his eyes, his breathing heavy. He was only like that for a couple of minutes, but it was long enough for him to jolt awake with a loud _NO_ , so violently that he kicked at the fire, sending sparks, his eyes wide and his chest heaving.

Panting, he pushed himself against the rock, burying his face for a moment. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to fall asleep…”

“ _You wanna talk about it?_ ”

Luke blinked heavily but didn’t raise his eyes from the ground. “Do you ever feel like… you’re not who everyone thinks you are?”

An identity crisis. That explained everything but the nightmares, and there didn’t need to be details.

“ _Yeah…_ ”

Luke’s blue eyes finally lifted to him. “You know what it’s like?”

“ _In a way. My own way._ ” He rotated the cooking bird and settled back against the boulder. “ _Sometimes you feel like an impostor or maybe you don’t belong…_ ”

“How’d you find your way?”

“ _I didn’t do it alone. I had my family_.”

Luke’s eyes dropped again and he shuddered. “I don’t have a family…” he said it so quietly it was almost lost in the crackling fire between them.

“ _My tribe is my family. Family is who takes care of you when no one else will, when your bloodline’s run dry._ ”

“You were an orphan?”

“ _A foundling._ ”

“I never knew my parents… Guess I was a foundling, too. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father…. My f-father….” He choked. His face buried in his hands again.

Mando didn’t speak, he let the silence fall between them, keeping it open for whenever the kid would be able to speak again. He could feel the pain, obviously related to his father. It was so palpable and he felt the inclination to put down the dinner he was trying to cook and offer a hand to his shoulder… a hug… something… But he didn’t know what would help. Whatever battle was happening inside Luke needed to be fought, not coddled. The silence stretched so long, the moon was falling to night again, the nearby planet filling the sky with its red face against the stars, the fire becoming the only source of light.

The bird was finally done cooking and Mando took the knife from his boot to begin cutting it. Luke moved forward, as if to help with the serving, but he paused, squatting beside the fire.

“You going to eat with that thing on?”

“ _Would be difficult._ ”

Luke’s brows rose. “You mean impossible.”

“ _Yeah, it’s impossible_.”

Luke got up and walked away. He went to his tool box and rummaged, pulling out a rag. It seemed relatively clean aside from what looked like a few grease spots on the edges. He carefully began to fold it over itself, then tied it over his eyes and behind his head. He held out his hands as if to say How’s this? The blindfold covered all the way from his forehead over his nose. There wasn’t much room for peeking.

“ _I’m supposed to trust you not to take that off?_ ”

Luke almost smiled. “I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me so far… I can’t see at all, honest.”

The bounty hunter’s stomach growled and he sighed. His hands shook a little, but he grabbed each side of his helmet and slowly pulled it off, setting it on the mossy ground beside where he sat. It felt good to get the cool breeze on his face, and his gloved hand pushed the flattened dark strands from his forehead.

Luke moved towards the fire again, finding his spot without so much as tripping or feeling his way. Mando’s heart stopped and he reached for his helmet. The creed. He swore the creed, he couldn’t let a living thing see his face and he had just broken it because he trusted this kid, who he had only met twice before.

“You said you couldn’t see!”

“It’s okay, I can’t see a thing!” Luke’s hand went out to reassure him, a full smile finally appearing. “You sound so different without the bucket on your head…”

His heart was still hammering, but he watched Luke carefully. The upper part of his face was wrapped tightly, leaving only the very tip of his nose, his lips and chin. Mando had never gotten to see him without the lens of the helmet between them. He could finally see the real colors of him, the delicate cleft in his chin he had never quite noticed before or the fullness of his lips. Maybe he was a starstruck idiot, but he trusted Luke.

“If I find out you can see, I’ll kill you…” He took up his knife again and began to carve the bird.

“Yeah, I know, I know…” Luke sat down closer to him, just out of arm’s reach. “We have a good thing going between us with the mystery, I’d hate to be the one to ruin it.”

A part of the Mandalorian agreed. The mystery was safe for them both. He cut off a wing, which, when folded, was the size of a human hand, and he put it into Luke’s palm.

“Thanks…” He listlessly began to pick at the bird, blowing at the steaming meat before bringing it to his mouth.

Mando helped himself to a leg, which was a sizable drumstick. They ate quietly for a few minutes, and Luke was suddenly left with nothing but bones.

“This bird is really good…” the kid said, his mouth full.

“Yeah it is. Hope it doesn’t turn out to be toxic.”

“Well, something like that might as well happen…” he tossed the bones into the fire, dead aim.

“You’re sure you’re not lying about being able to see?” Mando asked slowly.

“I have a good sense of things, doesn’t mean I can see,” Luke quipped, sucking the juices off his fingers, then wiping hands on his fatigues. “Thanks for dinner, though. I guess I’ve avoided eating since I don’t think I can take any more of those rations they give us.”

“You’re welcome.”

They went for second and third helpings, just about finishing off the whole bird between the two of them. Mando stretched out on the soft earth, the mossy floor like a bed, the boulder behind his head and shoulders. It had been one hell of a long day. All the adrenaline that had pumped through him on that job and his fleeing from the Tie Fighters was spent and his body couldn’t compensate. He was ready to nod off into a food coma then and there, but not without his helmet on. He picked it up in both hands, ready to replace it. But he was arrested by the sight of Luke again, half lit by the fire, sitting so still he seemed frozen, if it wasn’t for the melancholy sigh that rose out of him every once in awhile.

He loved it when Luke smiled or laughed, he knew that about himself by now. And even though there was something beautiful about Luke right now, it was hard to look at. Something was broken. Luke’s face turned towards him suddenly, as if he had felt everything that was churning in the bounty hunter.

“I know your ship isn’t running diagnostics,” said Luke.

“Yes it is. It’s running all kinds of diagnostics.” He lied. Badly.

“You didn’t have to stay here with me,” Luke said softly. “But you did and… I’m glad you did.”

“You said you came here to be alone… You don’t strike me as someone who wants to be alone right now. That’s all.”

Luke’s head canted a little towards him, his lips parting, the rest of his expression concealed. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” Another bad lie. He swallowed. “No.”

He sat up from his recline, scooting on the soft ground so that he could grab at the front of Luke’s fatigues. He gently pulled him closer, and Luke reached out for him. Leather gloves took the kid’s jaw, holding him in place, and he did what he had been dying to do since Tatooine.

He kissed him.

Luke melted, turning to liquid in his grasp as he practically slid into his lap, his hands clutching at the armored chest plate. Tongues met, jaws widening as the kiss deepened, and Luke moaned so softly he almost couldn’t hear it. Then the kid pushed forward, forcing the bounty hunter onto his back with a sharp grunt. Luke was straddling him now, lips never breaking, and he was grinding down on him with an intensity that was not expected. Mando was hard already, his hands frantically pulling off his leather gloves to toss them away so that he could take full hold of the other’s ass, which looked irresistible in that outfit.

He couldn’t shake how out of sorts the kid seemed, though. His hands moved to Luke’s shoulders, gently pushing him back to break the kiss.

“Wait a second… Wait…”

“What?” Luke was breathless.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep with me every time we meet…”

“You’re the one who kissed me…”

“Not because I expected anything more.”

“Then… why?”

The Mandalorian’s breathing hitched. “I just… wanted to…”

Luke smiled, and the parts of his cheeks that were showing under the blindfold, flushed. His fingers lightly touched the bounty hunter’s face, stroking the hair on his upper lip. “I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

“Sorry… I don’t have a lot of practice…”

“I didn’t say it was bad…” Luke leaned down again and Mando let him, lips meeting a little more gently this time. “I want to… I need to…”

Luke’s hand delved between them, gripping at the material over Mando’s hard bulge, squeezing and rubbing, making the bounty hunter gasp. He didn’t have to fondle the Mandalorian for long to get him so hard he could scream. Mando invited himself to undoing the other’s pants, loosening the wonderfully tight outfit. But Luke pulled away before he could get very far, climbing off of him and deftly pulling off his jacket, boots, and pants. Leaving only the blindfold and his sleeveless shirt. The choice of leaving the shirt seemed unnecessary and Mando couldn’t help smiling a little. This kid was perfectly imperfect in every way.

Luke was sitting on him again, his legs apart, his cock fully erect. His fingers were working rapidly to get into Mando’s pants, also freeing his manhood, his tongue poking out hungrily. He was moving so fast the bounty hunter had no time to react. Luke slipped two fingers into his own mouth, gingerly sucking on them before reaching behind and fingering himself. It didn’t look like the first time the kid had done this, and it made Mando shudder with need. It was maddening and so fascinating to watch the other pleasure himself, work himself with his fingers, soft grunts escaping him, his teeth scraping his bottom lip. Mando was fixated on that mouth, since he couldn’t see the rest of his face.

Finally, Luke with drew his fingers and adjusted his body, aligning himself over the Mandalorian’s standing erection. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto it. There was just a little resistance before he pushed inside and together they inhaled and exhaled, Luke’s breath hitching just a little as he took him in all the way. Luke wasn’t giving up control this time. When Mando reached for his hips, his hands were moved to Luke’s strong thighs. When Mando tried to buck upward, Luke’s hands were on his hips, holding him down. The kid was rocking fast, hard, and with such a precise rhythm that Mando was at his mercy. In the sexual frenzy-induced delirium, he thought he saw his helmet floating beside him.

This was desperation, not just for the pleasure of it, but escape, and Luke was driving it with everything he had. He was panting, breathless moans rolling out of his open mouth, as he madly bucked his hips. It all happened so fast, no matter how much Mando wanted to keep this going just a little longer, he came suddenly and so hard that he seized beneath the other, a low moan rising out of him, his fingers kneading into Luke’s thighs.The heat firing through him violently, leaving him shuddering.

The kid didn’t stop right away though, he wasn’t done quite yet. He was stroking himself now, frenzied and with choking moans, and in moments he came too. He whined, his spine arching, his head rolling to the side on his shoulders, his hand deftly squeezing out every last drop of satisfaction from himself… and all over Mando’s armor. The helmet dropped onto the moss and rolled, as if it had been tossed. It must have fallen over. It couldn’t have been floating.

They were both gasping for air, sweaty and worn out, and it only lasted a moment. Luke was shaking and weak, but he managed to climb off of the Mandalorian. It seemed to be with some effort that he felt for his clothes and began to pull them on, one leg or sleeve at a time. He kept his boots off, though, bare feet on the soft mossy earth as he laid on his back, knees up, blindfolded face to the sky, blond hair curled with the damp, his chest still rising and falling heavily.

Mando, too, was still on his back, his head turned to look at the kid beside him in a euphoric haze. It was brief, primal, and perhaps with a taste of self destruction. Luke was looking to feel something else, that much was obvious. Mando didn’t feel used. He hoped it helped, even if it would be brief. He knew all too well that physical escapes never healed the internal bleeding. But Luke trusted him enough, he gave him this moment. He wished he could kiss him without the blindfold. He wished Luke could be the one to see his face, if anyone was ever meant to.

Without much thought, Mando took his hand and held it. Luke’s breath steadied and he turned his blindfolded face towards him. There was a pause, and he closed his hand around Mando’s. Then the bounty hunter could feel it—the reason why Luke seemed to favor his right hand and why it seemed alien. Because it was. There were metal joints beneath the skin, which didn’t quite feel natural. It was a prosthetic. That raised alarms in the bounty hunter and he was sitting up on his elbow, pulling that hand closer, as if the inspection would tell him what happened to it.

“Your hand…”

Luke let out a shaking breath. “Yeah.”

“Who did this?” Mando was ready to fight them.

“It doesn’t matter… It’s okay…”

“You lost a hand.”

Luke’s lips tightened. “Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”

“Does it hurt?” He massaged it, his thumb in the palm, as if it would help.

“Sometimes… It’s still new…” He slipped his hand free of Mando’s hold, pulling it close to his chest again.

“Sorry…”

“It’s okay. I’m starting to think it’s a lesson I had to learn.”

“Some lesson.”

There was silence between them again and night was falling on the moon again. The days passed in a matter of hours, he didn’t even know how many “days” they had been here. It didn’t matter. Mando felt at peace here in the quiet with Luke. It was a natural silence, and joining it was the soft snoring from beneath the blindfold. Luke was finally asleep, and for now, undisturbed. Mando’s own eyes were pretty heavy. He found his helmet and was ready to put it on when a small tootle caught his ear.

R2-D2 was close by. Great, the stupid droid had seen the whole thing. He glared hard at the tin can.

“If you’re smart, you’ll delete this whole moon from your databanks.”

_Fwee-wop. Pfffffffffft._

Did that droid just raspberry him?!

“That’s it.” He pulled on his helmet and moved to get to his feet.

The astromech was surprisingly fast. It shot out its third wheel and zoomed off so fast that moss was flying up its wake. Forget it. He was too tired. He dropped back down onto his ass and leaned his back on the rock. Just as he was dozing off, he opened his eyes to see Luke laying his head on Mando’s lap, his jacket used as a pillow between his head and the armor.

When he woke up it was daylight. Who knew how many “days” had passed while he slept. His lap was empty. He still had his helmet on. The fire was out. He didn’t see Luke or Artoo, and he felt a burst of panic. He was on his feet, grabbing his rifle and heading for the X-Wing. It was gone. He stared at the imprints of the fighter’s landing gear in the moss, and it felt like a hole was punched in him somewhere.

Luke left without saying goodbye and Mando had not expected it to matter. It mattered a lot. He sighed heavily, resigning himself back to the lonely path. It was time to return to the real world. The Covert was waiting for him to return with his spoils, he could not keep them waiting. Everything he did was for Mandalore. For their secrecy, and therefore safety, he had to keep doing this alone. This was the way.

He sat in the pilot’s seat of the Razor Crest and fired up the converters, the engine sounding functional, even if there were still some concerning clicks in there. At least he would be able to make it home. He turned on the nav computer, and something flashed. He had a message. When he turned it on, Luke appeared on his console, and eight-inch-tall ghost.

“ _Before you come after me to kill me: No, I didn’t touch your helmet. Your identity is still safe. Also, I cleaned and polished your armor a little. It was covered in, um… stuff…_ ”

He was sure he could see the blush through the holoprojector, and it was then that he remembered the mess that Luke made of his armor. Sure enough, it was all clean. 

“ _I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye… I came all the way out here because I hoped I could work through… everything. I have a lot that I need to figure out about myself and my purpose, and seeing you again helped. Seeing you reminded me of who I was before, and what I always wanted to be. You reminded me that I get to choose my family. I was running away from my father, if you couldn’t guess… now I’m not so sure that’s the answer…. I would have stayed with you longer, but there’s someone waiting for me, who can give me the knowledge I need to move forward. Anyway, thank you. Until we meet again…”_ He smiled brightly, a true smile. _“May the Force be with you._ ”

The image flickered away and Mando was smiling under his helmet, though that last phrase left him a little bewildered. He heard it before in his travels, though he never understood it. All he knew was that weird religious fanatics tended to say it and he was struck with concern. Was Luke in a cult?


	4. The Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you all for joining me on this rare pair! I didn't realize there were so many of us out here! If there is an official ship name for these two, please let me know. Otherwise, I'm going to be calling them Skydalorian. And thank you to all of the amazing comments thus far! You guys are not only hilarious but encouraging in the best way possible! Thanks for the love!

Hanna City, Chandrila. A city in the heart of the Core, practically on top of Coruscant, and every bit as polished and opulent as the Mandalorian imagined it would be. Gleaming cityscapes dotted the otherwise vast rural nature of the planet, well-dressed citizens in comfortable living. He knew this place had been at the mercy of the Empire as much as any other world, because of its outright opposition to it, but he had a difficult time feeling any sense of solidarity with the memory of his people’s armor in a funeral pile in the dark sewers of Nevarro still so fresh in his mind. They did not have the dignity of keeping Mandalore in the dark times, like the Chandrilans did. The Chandrilans were not systematically wiped out.

This was where his investigation led him, however, and this was his purpose. His life was no longer led by bounties. He had his own clan now: A clan of two.

It had been a long journey to get here. For months, Mando was taking care of an infant, feeding it, protecting it, bathing it, teaching it. All the while he had been following leads, asking questions, researching whatever archives hadn’t been destroyed by the Empire, trying to find any trace of these legendary Jedi. They were extinct according to all records and anecdotes, or there were mere rumors and suspicions. Even Cara Dune had heard stories in the Rebellion of a Jedi fighting on their side, and the name that she remembered was one that Mando had heard before.

Skywalker.

It was the same person who was lauded for destroying the Death Star in the Battle of Yavin. It was said that he fought with abilities akin to sorcery, moving objects with his mind, jumping great distances as if flying, and wielding a blade of pure light that could cut through anything.

Well. Almost anything. The Armorer of the Covert, when he had spoken with her again, had told stories that Beskar was one of the only metals that could protect against such a blade. That was good to know, since Mando did not trust this mythical Skywalker, even though he needed his help.

They had been waiting in this cushy lobby for nearly an hour now, the white furniture too pristine for him to want to touch let alone sit lest some grease or dirt transferred from his armor, or some char from the jet pack on his back, his cape slung over one shoulder. Yes, he came in here fully armored and prepared for a quick escape. He was pacing all around the room when something clinked nearby. A little green hand was reaching up over the low table beside the white couch, pulling at the glass fruits.

“ _Hey_ …” he said softly as he approached. Coarse leather gloves put the glass back and he picked up his tiny green child. “ _What did I say about touching things? We’re guests here… and I don’t think I could afford to pay for any damage…_ ”

He cradled the child on one arm, those enormous eyes looking up at him and blinking. He still wasn’t sure how much this little one understood, but perhaps they were finally learning to communicate. All this waiting, and the baby was getting bored and hungry. He could understand that much.

“ _I think I saw some frogs in the fountains outside. We’ll grab one on the way out…_ ” He was smirking behind the helmet as he said it.

The child cooed, wing-like ears perking up, his three-fingered hand grabbing at the vambrace of the arm that held him. Mando learned quickly to lock the controls on that thing so that the child didn’t accidentally shoot the whip cord or flamethrower. The baby could harmlessly click the buttons to his heart’s content.

Mando sighed heavily and looked around the clean room again. His pride and dislike of Core worlds had him nearly walk out the door ten times now. This was the best lead he had gotten to finding Skywalker, and it took ages to be allowed here at all. A door opened and a gold protocol droid came shuffling in.

“Hello. I am C-3PO, human Cyborg relations.”

The Mandalorian and his green child stared at him.

“The Princess will be here in just a few moments. She is concluding a very important meeting with other delegates of the New Republic. Would either of you care for a beverage while you wait?”

“ _Water for the little one._ ”

“As you wish.” The protocol droid bowed stiffly at the waist and shuffled right out the door.

The infant was beginning to squirm in his perch, legs kicking somewhere beneath the sack that he wore. Mando set him back on his feet and watched him toddle across the floor, under a table, and behind the couch. At least someone was having fun.

At last, another door on the opposite side of the room whispered open, and a young woman walked in. She was quite petite, but the way she held herself made her seem a giant, and even the Mandalorian made sure to offer his full respect. The flowing white gowns and heavy silver jewelry that she wore somehow made her more fearsome. This must have been Princess Leia Organa, the fearless general.

“I hope you have not waited too long,” her voice was strong, and crisp. She stood a short distance from him, her face stoic and as impossible to read as his own helmet. “Why are you here?”

“ _I’ve explained why I’m here,_ ” he said sternly, having pleaded his case to hundreds of people just to get a foot in the door.

“I have heard from people who had heard from people who had received messages about you and your purpose, but I want to hear it straight from you. I know how much gets lost in the chain of communication.”

She wasn’t one for nonsense and he could easily imagine her in Mandalorian armor. This was a woman who led a rebellion, and it showed.

“ _I’m looking for the one called Skywalker. More specifically, I’m looking for any Jedi, but he’s the only one I know of._ ”

Her large brown eyes widened just a little, and she could not hide the tightening of her jaw. “A bounty hunter comes in looking for a Jedi, and I’m just supposed to point you to him? You’re the hunter. Try hunting.”

She turned and began to walk away.

“ _I’m not hunting anyone,_ ” he almost followed her but thought better of it. “ _I need his help. Please._ ”

She paused before reaching the door and slowly turned. The way her hand hovered at her hip, she was either ready to reach for a hidden blaster, or she had some strong habits of carrying one. His case was extremely weak with him standing there in full armor and weapons, and he didn’t blame her for her caution. So he moved calmly towards the couch, walking around it with his gaze to the floor.

“What _are_ you doing….?”

“ _Just give me a second…_ ”

He turned the corner of the couch, and a small green face was looking up at him from beneath the skirt of a table cloth. With both hands, he picked up the child under his arms and cradled him. The harsh lines on her face immediately smoothed away, as he had hoped, and he wisely kept his distance.

“ _This foundling has fallen into my care…_ ”

“I don’t know what you heard about Jedi, but I’m pretty sure they aren’t babysitters…” she said slowly, unable to take her eyes off the child.

“ _No… But this kid has powers that no one else seems to understand. He moves objects a hundred times larger than himself using just his mind._ ”

Her lips parted. “What did you say your name was, Mandalorian?” she finally looked at his helmet again.

“ _I didn’t… My name is Din Djarin._ ”

He had only recently begun giving his name, and it still felt like he was exposing too much of himself by it.

“Wait here.”

The command was given and she walked out of the room.

Mando sighed and looked at the child. “ _Great. More waiting._ ”

The child trilled quietly, turning his head to stare up at Mando’s helmet, as he often did. He wasn’t fighting to be free again, so Mando returned to his slow pacing, carrying the bundle with him. The protocol droid returned with a small cup of water, which Mando took with a halfhearted thanks, and it put in both hands of the baby, who slurped contentedly from it, dribbling a bit on his clothes. Mando used his thumb to swipe the droplets from the baby’s chin. It was only a matter of minutes and the princess returned with something close at her heels. A gangly child of perhaps 5 or 6 years, hair black as jet.

“I believe you’re telling the truth,” she said, more kindness in her voice than she had moments ago. “I’ve called him, and he is willing to help.”

Mando breathed out such a gust of tension he felt suddenly deflated. “ _Thank you… Is he here, then? On Chandrila?_ ”

“No, he’s not.”

The boy who had followed her in was clutching at her skirt, pinned to her side, large eyes peering up at the little green one. Mando couldn’t help looking down at the gawking kid.

“This is my son,” she smiled proudly. “As one parent to another, I believe Skywalker is the one who can help you. Here are his coordinates so that you can go to him…”

She handed him a data chip and he clutched it securely.

“ _Thank you._ ”

“Safe travels, Din Djarin. May the Force be with you both.” She smiled beautifully at him and the little one.

He could only think to offer a respectful bow before he strolled from the building with the Child perched in his arm. They caught a frog on the way back to the _Razor Crest_.

* * *

“ _This world is so far in the outer rim it doesn’t even have a name… Guess it’s our kind of place then, eh Womp Rat?_ ”

The Child cooed quietly in his pram at the Mandalorian’s elbow, happily clicking his tiny razor teeth on the Mythosaur pendant around his neck.

The planet seemed to be uninhabited, at least by any sentient beings. Perhaps he should have asked more questions about Skywalker and why he needed _them_ to come to _him_. They had come too far, though, and he followed the coordinates that pinpointed to the exact spot on the planet’s surface. The ship’s scanners were picking up heat signatures below, probably from a camp. That was as good a clue as any that at least someone was there.

He flew the _Razor Crest_ low as he eased into the atmosphere. It was after dark on this side of the planet, and there was no moonlight to show the way. He had to rely on the sensors that mapped out the ground below to find a level enough surface to land. It was mountainous, rocks and trees everywhere. Finally he found a clearing, and though it was only about a mile or so away from the coordinates, the terrain between was grueling. It hadn’t been easy thus far, why should he expect smooth sailing now?

He landed on the mostly level surface, the _Crest_ just a little tilted but not in any danger of sliding or tipping. The ground was sturdy rock, surrounded by flora. He didn’t know how long the nights lasted on this planet, and he wasn’t going to wait around for daylight. Fingers flipped down all the switches, shutting down the engines and blinking out the lights of the cockpit. He turned and, as always, found the child staring expectantly at him.

“ _I don’t suppose you would stay if I asked you to, would you…?_ ”

Little hands reached for him.

“ _I didn’t think so…_ ”

The baby would have been safest in the ship, barricaded and warm, but the tyke liked to press buttons and wander. Just in case if there was anything dangerous out there, the Mandalorian needed his hands free. He activated the mobile pram, and it floated behind him as he descended the ramp of his ship. The forest around them was almost deafening with the sounds of life. Chirping insects, amphibians, birds. The scanner in his helmet only detected small creatures, all harmless things that scurried for their lives the moment his boot touched the ground, the light from his helmet piercing the trees.

Following the coordinates of Skywalker, he began to walk in that direction, fully armed and equipped, his rifle on his shoulder, since he could no longer wear it slung on his back thanks to the jet pack. With the child in the floating pram, he didn’t have to walk slowly for the tiny legs to keep up with him, he could move at a brisk pace.

Every step of the way, he was on high alert. Every sound turned his head, every moment he was ready to snap shut the lid of the pram. It was a durable thing, Kuill did a phenomenal job. The Ugnaught lived on in his craftsmanship.

The child let out a tiny whine, as he often did when he seemed to be uncomfortable. That was when Mando saw it. Two sets of circles in the trees in a flicker before they disappeared again. The light on his helmet had struck the reflective eyes of a creature that must have had four eyes on its head. Well, it seemed to be gone now. Nonetheless, he raised his rifle as he walked. He felt like they were being watched.

A twig snapped, and he spun around. The darkness was suddenly dotted with what would have looked like a sea of stars… If they weren’t all blinking back at him. A furry snout poked out of the shadows into the beam of his helmet light and it was baring teeth so long and sharp, it put a nexu to shame. His thumb hit the button on his vambrace and the top of the pram snapped shut, closing the child in his egg. That movement set the beasts off.

A horde of large cat-like predators came charging out of the trees, from above and slinking low on the ground, and he opened fire. One after another was disintegrated, the teeth inches from him, claws sparking on his beskar. He swung rapidly, knocking one here with the butt of his rifle, stabbing another with the prongs and zapping it to ash, kicking, punching, throwing with his whole body. These things were almost as big as him, and they hardly made a noise above a hiss like a pit of snakes. The light on his helmet was knocked loose, and everything fell into darkness.

He growled as his leg gave out under him, feeling the sting only after from a claw that had sliced the unprotected part of the back of his knee. He activated the flamethrower, a funnel of fire lighting up the night as he swept slowly in a fiery circle. They howled, fleeing and screaming as they bolted, their fur in flames. The fuel was short lived and the flamethrower sputtered out a few more drops of fire before it gave out completely.

There were more of them, poised to pounce again, feral hunger in their glowing eyes.

He held his rifle in one hand, finger on the trigger, and drew his blaster pistol in the other. They changed at him again, and he opened fire, shooting two, four, six dead. Their numbers were endless, and he was wishing he brought grenades.

Something screeched through the night, breaking into a low hum that seemed to run through his armor, into his core, and a blur of green light came suddenly into his view. Where it swept, the beasts fell into cauterized pieces, dead in an instant, and finally the creatures were stopped. The survivors could not flee, even if they wanted to, all of them frozen where they stood.

Standing among the gore and the mutilated carcasses of the beasts was a hooded figure, half lit by a glowing green sword. The other palm was gloved and raised towards the beasts. It rose, and the beasts with it. One twitch of the fingers, and the creatures were thrown out into the darkness, disappearing into the night with yowls.

The Mandalorian kept both of his firearms aimed, his chest rising and falling heavily as he huffed in his helmet from the fight. His adrenaline was still pumping high as he now stared at this person. There was no doubt about it…

“ _You’re Skywalker?_ ” he panted.

The stranger turned around to face him, face hidden beneath his hood, the sword providing the only source of light, bathing everything in a green light. “You can lower your weapons now…”

Skywalker was perfectly calm in the midst of the mayhem. This was the person that the Mandalorian had been looking for, though, and he needed to show good faith. He holstered his blaster pistol and slipped the rifle back onto his shoulder. He shifted his weight off of the leg that was throbbing from the cut.

“Follow me… My camp isn’t too far from here. Unless you would rather talk knee deep in dead jengors…”

“ _I’m_ —”

“Din Djarin. Leia told me you were coming…” he was already walking, his glowing blade in front of him as a lamp. “You’re a Mandalorian?”

Mando touched at the vambrace, and the enclosed pod came floating alongside as he followed the Jedi, not a scratch on it. “ _Is it true then? You’re a… Jedi…?_ ”

“I’ve learned that Jedi and Mandalorians don’t have the cleanest history…”

“ _Before my time_.” He said simply. He wasn’t interested in old grudges, and there was something niggling at the back of his brain about this Skywalker person.

He couldn’t see the man’s face past the hood, and his helmet’s light had been busted in the fight. Skywalker slowed and stopped, and after a moment he turned back to face Mando.

“Can you walk alright? Looks like you had a close call with one of those jengors.”

“ _I’m fine._ ”

“I thought so.” It sounded like Skywalker was smiling as he said it.

Finally, they came to a clearing. There was an orange glow of a fire within a cave—no that opening was carved stone. In the night, he could barely make out flat surfaces and carved edges among the overgrown trees and ivy. These were ancient ruins of some kind.

Skywalker led the way inside where it was better lit and warm, his sword receding and disappearing, and Mando followed with the floating pram beside him. Now that he could finally see him, Skywalker seemed much… smaller. He was slight in his build, lean and light in his step. Of course, Mando knew better than to judge anyone by their size.

“I knew I’d see you again someday… And now I finally know your name…”

Skywalker faced him and pulled the hood off. Smiling at him was a face he never expected to see again.

“It’s nice to meet you Din Djarin. I’m Luke Skywalker.”

“….”

Luke still smiled, brows raising expectantly in the silence.

“….”

Luke’s smile dwindled a little and he folded his arms. “This didn’t go how I thought it would… Look, I know it’s you. That shiny new armor doesn’t fool me.”

“ _Is this a joke?_ ”

Luke laughed. “What do you mean?”

“ _Skywalker destroyed the Death Star._ ”

“Yes…”

“ _They said he was a commander of the Rebel Alliance_.”

“Yeah.”

“ _They said he single-handedly killed the Emperor and Lord Vader._ ”

“Well... Not exactly…”

“ _You’re Luke Skywalker. This whole time._ ”

“Only my whole life,” Luke chuckled.

Mando was trying hard—so damn hard—to see that snot-nosed farm boy standing in front of him. This person, this Jedi, was calm and confident without arrogance. This was a man with purpose. In just six or seven years, Luke had transformed beyond recognition, even though in all physical appearance he looked exactly the same. The shock was fading, and he realized after losing everything—the covert, his tribe, his career as the best bounty hunter in the parsec—one of the few joys he had in his tumultuous life was here in front of him.

“ _It’s damn good to see you again, Luke…._ ” In spite of himself, his voice cracked a little.

Luke’s face hardened with concern and he inched nearer. “Leia said you needed my help… What happened?”

Mando took in a rattled breath and approached the closed pram that hovered nearby. “ _This_ …”

Touch of the vambrace and the top slid open. Blinking hard against the firelight, the child looked out at them both, his attention immediately on Mando, his large ears raising at the sight of him. He then looked to Luke.

Luke was gaping right back, his mouth open. “I don’t believe it…”

“ _Imps hired me to kill him or capture him. They wanted him for something, though I never discovered what. I just took the kid and ran, and… I was told to find a Jedi.”_

“Why a Jedi?” Luke asked slowly.

“ _The child has… powers… It’s as natural to him as breathing, but he is too young to know how to control it, and I’m not one who can teach him._ ”

“What kinds of powers?” Luke never took his eyes off the child as he reached his flesh hand towards him. The baby reached out and grabbed his finger, a small coo rising out of him.

“ _Moving things with his mind… like a mudhorn, or fire… choking people without touching them… healing wounds…_ ”

“The Force. He has a natural ability to—Did you say healing wounds?” Luke shook himself out of deep thought and finally looked to Mando, the baby still holding his finger.

“ _Yeah_.”

“Are you sure?” he moved to walk away, but instead of getting his finger free, the baby was towed along in his pram. Luke chuckled. “Guess he doesn’t want to let go… May I?”

“ _Sure_.”

Luke tucked his hands beneath the child’s arms and lifted him carefully from the pram, cradling him against his black cloak, the baby immediately hunkered in cozy.

“ _You know how to handle kids…_ ”

Luke shrugged one shoulder as he carried the baby towards the fire where a crate was sitting open, a few personal items and rations scattered around it.

“I had a little practice with my nephew…”

He gracefully sat on the brick ground, the child sitting forward in his lap. He then reached into the crate and pulled out a book. It looked ancient, tiny flakes of the paper seasoning the child’s wrinkled head. The baby looked at Luke’s black-clad knees as the dust fell on them, tiny green palms turning up as if catching snowflakes.

Luke was so engrossed in this book that it had Mando’s immediate curiosity. He limped nearer, carefully sitting on another crate, his injured leg stretched out. He removed his rifle and jet pack, setting them both against the crate in which he sat.

“I never heard or found anything about healing…” Luke was mumbling to himself. “They would have told me if there was such thing… Wouldn’t they? Never mind, who am I kidding? They love secrets…”

_Ree-bee doo._

There in the corner was R2-D2. A little worse for wear, but the same tin can that Mando remembered so well. He chose not to acknowledge it.

“ _You have a nephew? I thought you didn’t have any family._ ”

Luke distractedly looked up, then smiled. “I didn’t know that I did. Leia’s my twin sister.”

More and more he was discovering that Luke, his three-time-fling, was quite possibly a complex person after all. “ _Hm._ ”

Luke’s expression dropped. “You’re bleeding! Why didn’t you say anything? I didn’t know that jengor cut you…” The book was set aside and he held the child as he got to his feet. With the kid in one hand, the other snatched up a med kit and he knelt in front of where Mando was sitting. The baby was set on his feet so that Luke to could open up the med kit.

The baby was waddling towards Mando’s injured leg, his ears drooped with concern, his hands reaching.

“ _No_.” Mando spoke sternly, gently pushing down the baby’s hands and picking him up to set him on his lap.

The baby looked up at him and opened his mouth wide, but the smallest cry of protest came out.

Luke had paused, watching them. “He wants to heal you.”

“ _I know. Not gonna happen. It takes too much out of him when he does it, and I can heal fine on my own._ ”

“As much as I want to see it… I wouldn’t want him hurting himself either…” He leaned down, poking a gloved finger at the back of Mando’s knee. “It’s just a scratch… I’ll clean it for you…”

He took out a bacta swab and began to dab between the torn edges of the new hole in the bounty hunter’s pants.

“What’s his name?”

“ _I… I don’t know…_ ”

Luke smiled, blues glancing upward briefly from his work. “Well, what do you call him?”

“ _Whatever he seems to respond to, honestly…_ ”

“You never gave him a name?”

“ _I’ve gotten by without one…_ ”

Luke looked up at him disapprovingly, but there was a hint of a smirk. He looked back to his task of cleaning he wound, and Mando could already feel the pain subsiding thanks to the fast-working bacta.

“You know, he looks just like my old Master… They must be the same species…”

“ _You know someone like him?_ ” Mando damn near jumped to his feet. “ _Where can I find him?_ ”

“Sit still, will you?” Luke was frowning, his gloved hand hooking around Mando’s belt to hold him down. “Master Yoda died a few years ago…”

Mando’s heart sank. “ _Are there no others like him?_ ”

Luke shook his head helplessly, carefully applying a fresh bandage. “None that I know of.”

“ _My purpose was to find others like him. Or a Jedi. You were my best lead._ ”

Luke finished his task and sat back on the ground, one knee up, his arm rested on it as he looked up at the Mandalorian.

“So your plan was to just give him to me and leave?”

The baby was slumped against him, his upper lip twitching as he dozed. Mando watched the infant for a moment and sighed. “ _I don’t know. I don’t really have a plan here. All I know is… I don’t know how to help him. I can’t train him to be Mandalorian. I don’t even know what he is. But…_ ”

“But you can’t leave him either.” Luke was smiling a little. “There’s a powerful bond between you two. I can feel it. You’re a father now, Din.”

He was already struggling to come to terms with the idea of being a father, but hearing his name from Luke’s lips did something. It made him feel seen.

The Jedi got to his feet again, patting the dirt off his black clothes. “Of course I’ll help you. I think I’m meant to help you, and I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

He said it with such confidence. In their past dealings, he had always felt an overwhelming need to protect that blond farm boy, but suddenly he felt as though he was the one who needed the protection. The baby shivered a little in his lap. Mando carried him back to the mobile pram and very, very gently set him inside without waking him. He made sure his blanket was tucked around him. He watched, to be sure the child was indeed fast asleep. Not a blink or a twitch, just deep breaths in his tiny lungs.

Luke was standing close beside him, also looking at the sleeping infant.

“For the past few years…” he whispered, “I’ve been searching every second of every day for any remnants of the Jedi, to gather up the pieces so that I can restore some semblance of it…”

The Mandalorian didn’t think to ask him why. He knew what it was to be part of something endangered.

“There’s too much history… but also too many gaps… too many lies and corruption… But within the relics and the stories that I’ve collected is the pure truth in it all. The essence of what it means to be a Jedi. There’s so much to learn, my biggest fear is even if I do live to old age, I’ll never live long enough to put the pieces back together…” He sighed heavily. “I want to create a new Jedi Order that doesn’t have the same flaws as the old one. I don’t want to repeat history.”

“ _You’re doing all of this alone?_ ” Mando whispered also, but his voice was less soft through his helmet’s speaker.

“Not exactly…” Luke looked to the ground. “I have a few contacts in some systems of people who are familiar with the Jedi of the Old Republic. I also have ways of communing with some of the Jedi themselves. Two of them, anyway…”

Communing? “ _You talk to ghosts?_ ”

“I guess it’s more accurate to say they talk to me, they don’t usually come when I ask. I know they’re always listening, though…” He said the last part just a little louder, as if for the benefit of eavesdroppers.

Maybe Luke had finally blown a fuse in his brain, but the Mandalorian couldn’t help the shiver he felt, that maybe there was some truth in it.

“For a long time, I didn’t know what my role in the galaxy was, if I was meant to be a rebel fighter or a Jedi or… well, there’s a very, very brief moment in my life I’m not proud of where I nearly lost myself to the dark… I know my purpose now. My father was a Jedi Knight. He was the greatest warrior of his generation and a hero in the Clone Wars. He’s the reason I’m a Jedi.”

Mando bristled at the mention of the Clone Wars. He couldn’t help it, the very name brought back the sounds and smells of it when it fell on his doorstep as a child and took everything. He checked the baby once more, and when he was content the infant was fast asleep, he closed the top of the pram. It was perfectly ventilated, and the covering would keep out the noises, lights, and night chill.

“What’s wrong?” Luke was looking at him.

“ _Nothing_.”

“I can feel the sadness in you, Din…” Luke’s eyes were almost piercing.

“ _You can read minds now?_ ”

“Not exactly… Maybe some day.” He smirked.

“ _It’s just that… I can remember the Clone Wars. A little. I was very young._ ”

He had Luke’s full attention, and somehow he couldn’t stop himself from opening up. For years he had buried his identity and his past, and now it was clawing to the surface.

“ _A battalion of B2 droids decimated my village and my parents died trying to save me. It was the Mandalorians who saved us a protected us. They took me in when I had no one else. They are the great warriors that I had aspired to be. I’m grateful for their compassion for a foundling like me, but… After the Night of a Thousand Tears, I chose to be that and nothing else. I am devoted to the Creed, and will be until I die, but if I am to raise this child until he is of age, I need to be more to him than just a Mandalorian, or a bounty hunter…_ ”

“You’re Din Djarin. He knows that.”

“ _I’m not sure if I know it_.”

He was baring his soul for the first time in his life. He had kept it so densely armored, he was cringing behind his helmet. He was terrified of how much he trusted this young man in black.

Luke reached out to grip Mando’s leather-gloved hand with his own flesh hand. “I know it.”

His breath was suddenly short, the simple touch of a hand reminding him of the simple comforts and escapes they had offered each other years ago, how fleeting and brief it all was. He felt more bashful now than he ever had with Luke, his heart hammering, but he stepped a little closer.

“ _What I was trying to say was... I don’t understand any of this, Luke. Jedi and the Force and whatever… But even without any of that, I think your father would be proud to see the man you’ve become. I never knew you were a Rebel commander or a Jedi Knight. All I know—and need to know—is that I have been honored to know you and you are not defined by your heritage or whoever’s flag you choose to fly. And I am trying to learn that for myself._ ”

Luke took in a deep breath, his cheeks coloring. With another inhale, he looked skeptically up at him. “We sort of went out of our ways to be a mystery to each other in the past. How could you possibly know enough about me as a person to have an opinion like that?"

It was a good question. Mando looked towards the closed pram. He thought of the way the child looked at him, without judgment or preconceived ideas. How Luke had always done the same. He canted his head a little and looked back to Luke. “ _You never called me Mando._ ”

“That all?” Luke chuckled.

“ _It’s enough_.”

The Jedi was still holding his hand, and he lightly gnawed his bottom lip, his eyes searching the faceless surface of the beskar helmet. “After all these years, I’m sure you’ve met other people…”

He knew what Luke was referring to, he felt it in the way his hand was squeezed. “ _Not really. Nothing that mattered. Or… nothing I was brave enough to pursue…_ ”

“I never thought we’d see each other again…”

“ _Neither did I_ ,” he confessed.

He was aching to kiss him, even after all these years. The grip of their hands was enough to spark a fuse within him. He would not take off his helmet, but he could not keep from showing something. With his free hand, he lightly placed his fingers on the back of Luke’s neck, tipping him forward just enough for the cold metal of his helmet to meet the warmth of Luke’s forehead. Mandalorians had so few options for expressing their affection for one another, and the gesture spoke volumes in his culture. Luke seemed to recognize this or at least understand. His hand was on the back of Mando’s neck, kneading lightly at the layers of fabric from his cape. More than ever he was appreciative of the black garb that Luke now adopted, how tight it fit over his lean body, and the command it gave him. More than ever, he wanted to get him out of it.

“Does he sleep very long…?” Luke whispered, his breath shaking a little, ghosting against the helmet’s t-visor.

The implication was strong and it sent a wave of heat through the Mandalorian. “ _W-why?_ ”

Luke smiled and it only made him ache more. “Your thoughts betray you, Din…” he said cryptically.

“ _You said you couldn’t read minds…_ ”

“I can feel them clear as day…” His hands had moved to the space between armor, to hold Mando’s waist and grip the fabric there. “Do we have time..? Artoo is on defense mode, he’ll alert us if anything’s near the temple…”

Mando looked to the closed pram, to Luke, to the pram again, then back to Luke. He was a man starving, and for the first time in years there was sustenance. The pram was closed, the child sleeping peacefully inside, and he found he trusted the little astromech to keep an eye out for them.

There was a small shadowed nook he had noticed when he first entered these ruins, and the privacy of it made it leap instantly to mind. The pain in his leg was dull now, thanks to the bacta, and he was reignited by need. An arm swept under Luke’s knees lifting him off his feet, his other arm supporting him as he carried him.

“Wh- Hey!” Luke laughed and clung to his neck, looking down as if afraid of heights, those knee high black boots kicking a little in a flail.

They reached the shadow from the firelight and he set Luke back onto his feet. Even through the screens of his helmet, he could see the Jedi was flushed. Mando was the first to pull off his own utility belt and bandolier setting it aside. Luke was holding back a smile, licking his lips, but seeming hesitant in the way he slowly pulled off one boot, then the other. 

Mando paused before reaching to his armor. “ _What is it?_ ”

Luke was looking at the ground in a bashful way that reminded the bounty hunter of Wormie. “I, uh… I have kind of thought about this a lot since the last time I saw you… Now that it’s happening, it seems a bit silly to ask…”

Now he was intrigued. “ _Ask what?_ ”

“Well… you let me wear a blindfold the last time… I could do that again, but I was wondering if it still counts if it’s dark enough in here.”

“ _Dark enough to where we can’t see each other?_ ”

Luke nodded and finally raised his eyes to him again. "If you haven’t noticed, this planet doesn’t have a moon close enough for moonlight. The nights here are pitch black.”

Now he was nervous. It was thrilling to think of the prospect of nothing between them—no armor, no clothes—but the risk of showing his face… No, it would be worth it to be able to kiss him again.

“ _I’ll put out the fire…_ ” He moved to go put it out, but Luke’s hand seized his.

“Wait…” Luke’s eyes closed and he raised his chin. His gloved hand raised, just to the level of his waist. Something moved in the air without a breeze, and the fire shrank, and shrank, crackling down into embers that winked out and the darkness swallowed them, and Luke disappeared before his eyes.

“ _That’s what you rehearsed all these years?_ ”

He could hear Luke’s laugh. “Something like that. Not that I’m trying to impress you…”

“ _Not that I would tell you if I was…_ ”

He took it upon himself to pull off the helmet, tossing it aside where he was sure he saw soft foliage in the bricks. It hit the bricked floor with a clang, and he winced. It was a good thing beskar was hard to scratch. Gloves off, armor following one piece at a time, and he could hear to sound of Luke disrobing mere inches away. As clothes peeled away, the very heat of their bodies in the air, and Mando was the first to reach blindly.

He found skin, warm and soft, and he pulled it in greedily. Bodies met, each growing manhood against the other, Luke’s hands taking his face and guiding lips together. The kiss was softer than he remembered, sweet and foreign in a way that made it so precious in every roll of a tongue. Luke’s hands explored just his face as their mouths danced, his hands traced his hairline, gripped at thick locks, fanning along his jaw, and Din—no longer the Mandalorian—purred to have hands where only armor ever held him.

His arms enclosed Luke’s thin frame, his palms tracing the muscles of his shoulders, down his back, to the taut muscles of his rear where he gave a generous squeeze. The mewl out of Luke was encouraging, but he was far from satisfied. Luke was pulling at him, urging Din forward as he moved backwards until the Jedi had gotten his back to a wall. Din pushed his pelvis against him, grinding to feel the the friction of their mutual hardness against one another, hot to the touch and already throbbing. 

The truth was, Luke wasn’t the only one who had thought about this, imagining what he would do if they met again, what he wished he could do on sleepless nights where he was reminded of the blond he met in the desert. This would not just be Din indulging in those fantasies, but pouring himself out in a way he had denied himself before, to make every moment count with Luke where it could be the last.

With surprising strength, Luke turned both their bodies to get Din’s back to the wall. The kiss was broken and Luke held him in place with his hands on his strong hips. He could feel the glove still on Luke’s right hand. He kissed the bounty hunter’s whiskered jaw, throat, collarbone, the hair of his chest, down his sternum and stomach. There was such purpose in every action, Din was already panting with anticipation. Luke’s nose brushed into the hair and he kissed the shaft, which provoked a hard grunt from Din.

“Might want to keep it down…” Luke whispered up at him, his breath along flesh. After all, they didn’t want to wake the kid.

“I don’t think I can promise that…” Din said breathlessly.

“I’ll just stop then…” Luke began to move away and Din gripped at his shoulder.

“N-no… I can be quiet… Please…” He was on fire and he was sure he would die right here if Luke left him cold.

“Alright, I believe you…” He could hear the smile in Luke’s voice and was vaguely aware that the Jedi was tooling with him.

But all coherent thought went out of his skull when Luke’s hand stroked him, working his already full erection just a little before his mouth closed on the sensitive tip, kissing it gingerly. Din pressed his lips together with all of his might to keep the noise in when he felt himself consumed slowly, but completely, enveloped by such hot wetness of the cavern of the other’s mouth. He leaned back against the rough surface of the temple wall, the back of his head thunking against it, eyes pinched closed, and chest heaving.

Luke’s head was bobbing, he couldn’t see it in the pitch black, but he didn’t need to as he felt the stroking of tongue and lips relentlessly on his cock, pausing occasionally to tease with a flick of that swollen tip. Din wanted to scream, the flames were stoked inside and his body was tightening with the need for release. Then Luke stopped. Din had to blink back to reality when he felt the cold air on him again. For a bewildering instant, he thought the Jedi had vanished, but lips were on his again, kissing him slowly with his own flavor.

“Take me, Din… Now…” Luke’s voice was low, husky with demand, and Din was not about to argue.

He turned them both around again, pinning Luke to the wall, lifting his legs to hook his arms under them so that he could grip his ass. Luke, strangely light, wrapped his arms around Din’s neck. It was only when Din guided himself to that tight entrance that he realized while Luke was on his knees, he was fingering himself, preparing himself. Multitasking at its finest. Din pushed slowly inside and Luke gasped softly, air trapped in his lungs as he took in the full girth, and Din unable to hold in the low hum to feel how tight the other was. Slowly again he thrust in, and Luke pulled in closer, gloved fingers and nails clawing at his shoulder blades, lips on the crook of his neck.

The need was too strong and he quickened his pace, building such a tempo that he was swept away into it, dizzy and frenetic, muscles burning with the act, the sweat gathering on both their flesh. Luke managed to be quiet, but his mouth was wide open with lungfuls of air at Din’s ear, an occasional strangled whine rising in the back of his throat. He knew if they did not have to be quiet, Luke would be screaming with pleasure, and that was enough to make him thrust harder.

Luke still held on for dear life, his sweaty forehead touching Din’s, their gusting breath colliding with their silent moans, and somewhere in the gasping, he heard Luke whisper desperately Din… Luke choked a little, shaking violently, something warm trickling between both of their bodies as the Jedi came.

“Don’t stop, Din…” Luke said weakly, but begging, his mouth closing on Din’s.

The sound of his name on his lover’s lips was like music and he was so painfully close, his ears ringing so loudly with pleasure, he wasn’t sure if he himself was screaming or not. Then everything peaked, he came so hard that the blackness in front of his eyes flashed white and he slammed forward, burying himself deep as his body shook, muscles quaking as he rode the shattering waves. He grunted low into the kiss, swallowing down the taste of Luke as he emptied himself into him. 

It all began to calm, leaving in its wake a disorienting buzz, and Din sank forward, his forehead on Luke’s shoulder as he heaved for breaths. Luke’s hand was stroking his hair, his legs still wrapped around him. Now Din was beginning to feel the weight of the other man on his arms. He carefully withdrew himself and gently set Luke onto his feet, but he wasn’t ready to move just yet. He needed to get his bearings. As reality returned, he remembered where they were, and the reason they were trying to be quiet. He lifted his head and listened through the dark. Not a sound.

“He’s alright…” Luke said softly at his ear.

Gradually they were catching their breaths, but they did not let go. Din wasn’t ready to. Being here with no armor, just breathing in Luke, safe in the dark, he felt like he was breathing for the first time. They held each other like that for a few moments, but as their blood began to cool, Luke shuddered a little tried to move. But Din hadn’t let go yet. So Luke stayed, and another moment passed in silence, the Jedi’s fingers endlessly combing through his hair.

“It’s been lonely for you… hasn’t it?” said Luke, seeming to read his thoughts again.

“Yeah…” Din admitted.

“Me too.”

Their noses brushed, face to face, but still too dark to see anything. He could imagine Luke’s crystalline blue eyes clear as day, but Luke had nothing to imagine but metal.

“Hasn’t there been anyone for you?” Din asked.

Luke sighed lightly. “I never really had the time… Besides, I feel like I can leave the family life to Leia and Han…” His hands then slapped onto Din’s chest. “Oh no! Leia!”

Suddenly there was air in Din’s arms and he could hear Luke’s bare feet scuffling on the dusty bricks of the ruins.

“I gotta light the fire, Din, you might want to get your helmet on!” Luke’s voice was on the other side of the room now, back around the encampment.

He was already trying to find it in the dark, immediately sharing in the Jedi’s alarm. “Why? What’s wrong?” He called back, his voice echoing off the damp crumbling walls.

“I told Leia I would call her when you arrived… She’s gonna kill me, she hates it when I forget to call. I’ll never hear the end of it if she knows I forgot again…”

“I don’t know where the hell my things are, Luke, it’s too dark!” Now Din was getting grumpy, groping around in the dark.

“Here!”

Something tapped into Din’s chest, and when he grabbed it, it was his helmet. It had apparently floating to him. He wasn’t sure if he liked this Force thing, it was kind of creepy. He put his helmet on and sighed heavily, fully accepting how ridiculous it was to wear literally nothing else.

“You got your helmet on?”

“ _Yeah_ …”

The fire fanned to life, and Luke was wrapped in his long black cloak, fingers combing at his hair to make himself presentable. The Jedi wasn’t even paying attention to him as knelt in front of Artoo. He stood back, clutching his cloak around him. The light flickered on and Luke stepped back within range of the holoscanner, straightening his back. He nodded to the droid, and Artoo beeped at the ready.

“Leia… Din Djarin is here with me. Everything is well, and who he has brought may be yet another key in my search. What I didn’t know when you sent him to me is that he’s an old friend of mine. I wanted you to know he is someone we can trust. You can ask Han about the Mandalorian on Ord Mantell all those years ago…” He smiled. “Yes, the thing that made Han decide to leave the alliance. After I’ve exhausted my search of the ruins here, I will visit Chandrila again to see you all. Give my love to Ben, Chewie, and Han. May the Force be with you, sister…”

Another nod to Artoo and the recording stopped. Luke exhaled and let the cloak drop from his shoulders. He was still naked. “There. Now she can’t get mad at me…”

Meanwhile, Din was gathering up his own clothes, dressing begrudgingly and completing with his armor, finalized by his vambraces. Din had so many questions about his relation to the Princess-General Leia Organa. Did that mean that Luke was royalty? How did they not know about one another? He couldn’t get himself to voice any of the questions when he was staring at Luke’s naked body in the firelight. He was perfect and it made the bounty hunter’s knees weak. He had thought about him so often all these years, never sure if happenstance would bring them together again. If only he would have known that taking that high bounty for the Child would lead him here.

He gathered up all the black clothes and the boots, and handed them to Luke. The Jedi took them gratefully and began to dress.

“ _So what do we do from here?_ ” Din hated to ask. Looking to the future meant saying goodbye again.

Luke was shrugging on his sable shirt, fastening it closed, leaving just a little flap loose at his chest. He balanced perfectly on one foot as he pulled on one boot then the other.

“I suppose… that’s up to you…” He looked to Din so neutrally, patient and calm, but the light of the fire caught something in his eyes that seemed to be fear. “I am going to build a new Jedi Academy, to train children who are Force sensitive, like my nephew and your boy. But I hadn’t intended on doing it so soon… I wanted to continue my search before I could even begin to teach anyone anything… I’m still a novice myself, you know.”

“ _You looked pretty proficient to me_.”

Luke shook his head with a smile. “You don’t even know the half of what a real Jedi knight is capable of. Neither do I… That being said, I don’t think your boy is old enough to begin any intensive training anyway. He’s just a baby… It’s not easy teaching one that young how to govern their emotions and calm their minds.”

“ _He’s fifty years old._ ”

“You’re making that up.”

Mando almost laughed. “ _If only I was. Pretty sure I’ll be dead before he reaches adolescence, at this rate._ ”

Luke looked across the fire towards the pram where the Child still slept soundly inside. “I can’t stop my search, Din. I’m the only one to do it. And yet… I can’t refuse helping you. I want to help you. You and the baby can find a safe place to stay on Chandrila, I know Leia would help you. Then, maybe when he’s older, I’ll be ready to take on students.”

Living in that sparkling city, hanging up his armor so that he could watch the horizon waiting for Luke to return from the far reaches of the galaxy?

“ _That’s not happening_.”

Luke’s attention snapped to him. “Why not? You’d be safe from whoever might be looking for you.”

“ _I am still a Mandalorian. We’re warriors. If you’re going on a pilgrimage to find everything you can about the Jedi, then we’re coming with you. The safest thing I can do for him is to keep moving. Every time we stay in one place for too long, someone comes._ ”

“It’s not safe with me either,” Luke insisted. “There are still former imperials who want me dead. Zealots who still want to destroy the Jedi.”

“ _Then it sounds to me that we would be stronger together than apart. You once asked to join my crew, well I’m asking to join yours._ ”

Luke stared at him in disbelief. “Y-you want to stay with me?”

It wasn’t until Luke said it that he realized what it meant. Their interactions before had always been brief, like comets passing through space, unlikely to meet again until their next orbit. To be together, long term, had a hint of terror to it. But it seemed right.

“ _It’s what I have to do…_ ” He said mechanically, but his voice rattled a little. “ _I… I want to._ ”

Luke was blinking, clearly thinking a great deal about what this sudden development meant. He looked from the pram, back to Din. Finally, the edge of his mouth pulled into a small smile. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OBVIOUSLY there is room to continue the adventures of Luke Skywalker and Din Djarin with Child in tow. I may continue it as a separate story, but I wanted to tie this one up. It was so much fun to write, even if this last chapter gave me a hard time. Thank you guys for coming on board the SS Skydalorian!


End file.
